The Noble Ferengi
by Iruka Sensei871
Summary: Quark is a true believer in the profit motive, but the Rules are complicated. When he finds himself a prisoner on a strange planet he must negotiate the most difficult deal of his life - a bargain for his soul. AU Quark/Dax Dax/Worf
1. Chapter 1

AN: I always thought that Quark seemed as if he was more than we saw in the show. His people couldn't have become so powerful without being great warriors as well. I changed a few things about the storyline. Dax and Worf meet differently, and there are a few aspects of Ferengi and Klingon culture that I've changed slightly. It's AU, but close to cannon.

"I demand a lawyer, or mediator," Odo yelled, but the guard just laughed as he passed his cell. He sat on his cot and tried to ignore the other prisoners yelling various curses at the guard as he left.

Odo didn't adjust well to captivity, and the humiliation of being treated like a criminal had him fuming. His cell was small and squalid, with the smell and refuse of multitudes of prisoners that had come before him. He wasn't surprised to smell stale urine, but he was concerned by what looked a large blood stain on the floor near the entrance.

His mind was more active than it had ever been, trying to put together the pieces of yet another puzzle that the universe liked to throw at him occasionally. He usually enjoyed the challenge, but at the moment he would have settled for anything or anywhere else.

He searched the dingy cell, looking for any way out, and tested the strength of the bars, which were old-fashioned steel - ages behind the technology of DS9, and he thought of that place as an artifact, but his careful scrutiny revealed nothing.

Odo had seen more than most of his friends would have thought possible, and he'd gathered little bits and pieces of skills along the way. One of which was that he could spot the most obscure details. He'd never made any sort of proper study in detective work; it just came natural to him.

He searched the small cell, but the only two exits were the door - which wasn't useful with guards on the other side - and the small window, set so high that it was almost at the ceiling, and the glass was so dingy it let in only a bit of light - definitely not enough to see by.

He leapt up and grabbed the ledge under the window with the edge of his fingers, and he instinctively tried to stretch them so he could find a better handhold. His frustration when his fingers refused to bend to his will only made his anger worse.

 _Why did they have to turn me into a solid?_ he thought, but he knew that their judgment was something he couldn't fight. He had killed one of his own kind, and the court of shape shifters knew how to torture him best.

He slipped from the ledge. _I couldn't have done anything with that anyway, not in this shape._ The stone walls might as well have been ten feet thick and made of steel in his current state. The worst of it was that it would have been so easy before his punishment. The small scratches near the window didn't escape his attention. Someone had tried to dig around the window, obviously with their fingers. The slight marks were bloody.

"Just change shape already," he heard from the only bunk in the room. "Why are you wasting time?" The raspy voice brought his attention back to his other problem - Quark. Quark, as usual was adding to his difficulties, and he would have given almost anything for him not to be here, and not for the usual reasons.

 _Why him?_ he wondered. _Of all the people to be trapped with, why him?_

"You know I can't," Odo said. "We'll just have to find another way out of here."

"We?" asked Quark.

"I'm not leaving you here," Odo said. "I can't."

Quark laughed and then groaned and let out one of those high-pitched Ferengi sounds that drove Odo mad. He held his hand to his bandaged head. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts. What do you mean you can't? Do you want to arrest me so badly you're breaking me out of jail so someone else can't do it?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're innocent in this situation, and it wouldn't be just to leave you here."

Far down the corridor of cells they heard a scream, which echoed through the stone halls. Odo shuddered. "I won't leave you behind to be tortured. I'm sure that's what they're doing."

"I know you can change shape," Quark said. "Your scheme was good, but it's time to let it go. I never believed you anyway. It's just another way for you to try to trap me."

"Do you really think you're that important?" Odo asked. "You're a two-bit criminal."

"Then why did you follow me through the worm-hole?" Quark asked.

"That's my business," Odo said. "I never said I was following you. I have my own interests, you know. They just happened to coincide with the time you left the station."

A door opened near them, flooding the gloomy twilight of the cells with blinding light. A guard walked past them, dressed in a simple brown uniform with a green jacket and a few patches on it. Odo didn't recognize the chevron or the other symbol shaped vaguely like a four footed beast of some sort. When the door closed again they were plunged into near darkness, and Odo needed a few moments for his eyes to adjust enough to see the outlines of the cell.

Odo ran to the bars."Wait!" he yelled as the guard passed. His voice was drowned out by the other prisoners with their own questions, protestations of innocence, and curses. The guard popped a plastic stick, allowing a bright light to shine from it, and Odo saw a long line of similar cells, with hands reaching out to the guard, who ignored them all until he unlocked one cell and removed a Romulan prisoner.

He pushed the man ahead of him, and as they passed Odo could just make out his words over the cacophony. "You won't get anything out of me!" From what Odo knew about Romulans he doubted they would.

Quark tried to sit up and sank back onto the bed with a groan. Odo saw his eyes roll back as he passed out, again.

"We need a doctor in here!" Odo yelled, but the loud metal thunk of the door sounded final. Silence fell with the darkness, and then the sound of men and women weeping.

Odo crouched by Quark, touching the side of his neck and feeling for a pulse, but he felt nothing.

 _No, that's for humans and Cardassians,_ he thought. Bajorans had a pulse in their arm just above the elbow, but Ferengi?

 _Those huge ears must need a lot of blood,_ he thought. Somehow the thought of Quark dying made him feel like he would be losing something. He didn't know what, just a bit of himself that he needed, like a knife needed a whetstone.

He touched the fleshiest part of the ear near the bottom, and at least it was warm, but no pulse. It was hot, actually, and he wondered if that was normal for Ferengi or if Quark had a fever, if he was even alive. Odo ran his finger around the perimeter of the ear and then pressed his finger into the skin just under the eyebrow ridge, running it under the ridge and finally feeling a pulse just below the middle of Quarks ear.

Quark's eyes opened. "If you're going to do that I should at least buy you dinner first. You're really not someone I want Oo-Mox from." In the near darkness Odo saw the sharp teeth as Quark grinned at his own joke.

Odo pulled his hand back quickly as he remembered that touching a Ferengi ears was a sexual advance. He unconsciously wiped his hand on his tunic. "I was checking for a pulse. I thought that such large ears must need a lot of blood."

Quark took Odo's hand and moved it under his chin, where Odo felt a strong, fast pulse. "Don't touch my ears again," Quark said.

"I don't intend to," Odo said "How long were you awake, anyway? You might have said something sooner."

"I thought you were Dax," Quark said. "I heard her voice. It was the best Oo-Mox I've ever gotten, and it had to come from you. Where is Dax? I know I heard her."

"No, it's just me and you," Odo said. "You must be delirious. I don't know anything about Ferengi medicine. What do I need to do?"

"Keep the wound clean and change the bandage regularly," Quark said. "This isn't my first concussion. I'm sure I'll be able to move around by tomorrow or the next day if I don't get an infection."

Odo pulled the "bandage" up, looking at the large wound just above Quark's brow ridge. He could see a couple patches of pale bone underneath where Quark's skull had been exposed. _The damage must be under the skull too,_ he thought. He had torn a strip of fabric from the bottom of his tunic and put it over the wound until the bleeding stopped. Without any way to clean the wound there was dirt and grime mixed in with the dried blood.

"I didn't have any bandages," Odo said. "I had to use part of my shirt. It isn't sterile. That's probably why you have a fever - I guess. I don't know how high a Ferengi's temperature should be."

"Do you have any water?" Quark asked. "It' so hot in here."

"No," Odo said. "I tried to get the guard's attention, but everyone else is too. I'm sure they'll bring some when they feed us."

"Probably," Quark said. "Genoans are known to keep their captives alive, until they kill or torture them.

"You know where we are then?" Odo asked.

"Near Ferenginar," Quark said. "I don't know how we got here, but that guard was Genoan. They don't like to leave their planet. We aren't at war - technically, but they don't like outsiders. Romulan invasions made them xenophobic. We have a lucrative understanding with the Romulans, so we stay out of their clashes. Most of what we know about the Genoans is from centuries ago."

Quark's eyes closed and then jerked open as he struggled against losing consciousness. "I've been here before," Quark said. "Make up a name if they ask about me, or we're both dead."

"Let me guess, you swindled the locals?" Odo asked.

"You really think I'm not capable of anything but crime, don't you?" Quark asked. "I served in the merchant marines for a few years, and that's all you need to know."

"I can believe it," Odo said. When they had stepped out of the runabout into the unfamiliar desert landscape they were immediately attacked by a group of soldiers. Odo had been shocked to see Quark throw off three trained military men and injure several others in hand-to-hand combat before the blow to his head took him down.

And he was _good._ It didn't fit anything Odo knew about him. He wasn't surprised to see a Ferengi fight like a demon, even if they didn't all squeal like demented demons. For all their scheming and obsession with profit their compact bodies were perfectly built for what humans would call judo. He was surprised to see Quark, who he'd always thought of as a coward, display such bravery and skill.

 _Merchant marines,_ he thought.

"That explains what I saw before they captured us," Odo said. "I wondered where you learned to fight like that."

"You held your own," Quark said. "There were just too many of them."

Odo remembered the final kick that Quark had delivered, a powerful roundhouse kick to the chest that had incapacitated one man and pushed him back into another, effectively taking down two enemies at once. His opponent was about two feet taller than Quark too, but that hadn't stopped the Ferengi from an amazing jump that Odo never would have credited to him if he hadn't actually seen it himself.

Quark gulped. "I need water," he said. "It feels like my there's sand in my throat."

"Is that bad?" Odo said.

"Yes," Quark said. "It's bad. I'm dehydrated. I must have lost a lot of blood."

"Head wounds bleed a lot," Odo said.

"Ruined my new suit," Quark mumbled.

Another guard entered the prison, and Odo jumped to the bars, hoping to make himself heard before they were passed by.

"We need a doctor and water!" he yelled. "My friend is dying!"

 _Friend?_ he thought as the guard moved on, but the word fit. There were people who respected him, and Kira was close to him, but Quark _knew_ him like no one else.

He reluctantly admitted to himself that Quark was probably going to die. He was sleeping again, but the color had drained from his face, leaving him sickly beige that Odo had never seen on any Ferengi, or on anyone from any race, for that matter.

Odo turned his mind back to escape, but unless he could get someone to open the door there was no way he could think of to even attempt it. He studied the bars absently until he heard Quark stir.

"Odo?" Quark asked weakly.

Odo crouched by the cot. "I'm here," he said.

"I thought you left," Quark said. "I don't want to die alone."

"I told you, I won't leave you here," Odo said.

A metal panel set into the stone in the back of the cell slid upward with a sharp screech, revealing a wooden box inside it, with two tubes and two large plasticine cups.

Odo felt the urge to slip through into the delivery system and cursed as he felt his body refuse him again.

The left tube spit out a pink, texture less mass that coiled into the cup under it, while the right tube poured precious cold water into the other cup.

Odo took the cups, and the panel snapped shut again.

"Quark?" he asked, but Quark didn't answer. He was breathing slowly and evenly.

Odo put the cups down nearby and touched Quark under the chin, finding a pulse that was slower than before, but steady. _I have no idea what's normal for him,_ he thought.

"I have food and water," Odo said.

When Quark didn't move Odo put a finger in the water and touched Quark's lips, hoping to wake him. He sat on the edge of the cot and put an arm under Quark's shoulders, lifting him enough that he could place the edge of the cup against his lips and just let the water touch his mouth.

Quark's eyes opened slightly, and he drank a bit, waking as the water revived him. He lifted a hand toward the cup, but then let it drop again. It seemed to Odo as if he hadn't the strength to even move his hand anymore.

When Odo took the water away after a few frantic gulps, Quark followed the cup with his eyes, trying again to move his hand toward it. "More," he said.

"We need to ration it," Odo said. "I don't need any, but I don't know when they'll send us more."

There were no utensils, so Odo slipped two fingers into the sour smelling pink mush and pulled up a small amount of it. He put it into Quark's mouth, being careful not to cut his fingers on the sharp teeth. After what he'd seen when Quark fought he wondered if the filed down teeth were only for looks.

Quark gagged slightly on the food, but he managed to swallow it. "What is that?" he asked. "It tastes like sour fish."

"It's a nutrient solution that will keep you alive," Odo said. "That's all that matters."

Quark managed several mouthfuls before he told Odo he couldn't eat more, and Odo allowed him a few more sips of precious water before laying him back on the bed.

"I'll find a way to repay you," Quark said.

"It isn't necessary," Odo said. "I'm just doing the right thing."

"I don't want to be in your debt," Quark said.

"Don't worry about things like that right now," Odo said. "Just lie still and try to regain your strength. You're going to need it."

Odo ripped another strip of cloth from his tunic and put a small amount of water on it. He put it on Quark's forehead, and Quark sighed with relief as he fell into a more natural sleep.

Odo didn't even bother looking when the door opened again. He was sitting by the cot and staring at the ground, watching a beetle move around the room while he tried to think of any answer to his problems.

He heard the click of keys and looked up to see a guard unlocking the door, which swung inward with a groaning metal sound. He stepped aside for a woman, a long leggy type that humans would call platinum blonde. Her long hair was tied back into a simple pony-tail, and her light blue skin marked her as from a race unfamiliar to Odo. Her uniform was more complicated than the guards', with medals across her chest and five studs on her sleeve. Even before she spoke Odo knew she was whatever passed for an officer among her people. There was something in the cold, scrutinizing look that she gave Odo that let him know this was the person to impress if he wanted to live.

She pulled out a light-stick and shone it so that Odo was practically blinded. "So we do have two prisoners that aren't Romulan," she said. "You don't look like any race I've ever seen. What race has joined the Romulans this time? You should tell me now and save us both the trouble of having you tortured. They'll never take us."

"We came here by accident," Odo said. "I'm not even sure where we are."

"That's a weak story," she said. "I'm too busy to spend much time here, but the interrogator can spend all the time with you that's necessary. I'm not going easy on any of the Romulan prisoners this time. We had just entered discussions about creating a truce, and I'm going to send a message. Unless you want to be part of that message you'd better start talking, now."

"He's telling the truth," Quark said, his voice sounding stronger after food and rest, but still weak.

"Oh, your friend is awake then?" she asked, moving the light so that it shone on Quark's face. The light stick wavered as her hand shook. "Quark?" she asked.

"You," she said to Odo. "Get to the corner over there and don't move. Guard, keep an eye on him."

She knelt by the cot and shined the light full into Quark's face. He managed to lift an arm across his face to shield himself from the light, but she pulled the arm away and left him blinking blindly into the light.

"It is you," she said. "After all these years I find you here."

"You're thinking of another Ferengi," Quark said. "I've never been here before."

"As if I'd forget _your_ face," she said.

"Guard, get the other one out of here. I'll deal with him later."

Odo protested loudly, but the guard used an electric prod to guide him away from Quark and down the row of cells until they came to one with a lone, bloody Romulan huddled in the corner. The guard left Odo there, and Odo was sure he'd never see Quark again.


	2. Chapter 2

The Noble Ferengi

Ch 2

The guard stopped and waited outside the cell with the Ferengi, waiting for further orders until his superior sent him away.

"Yes, General," he said. He looked back to see her bending over the Ferengi, closer than he thought was safe.

She touched Quark's face fondly. "I'll get a medic down here," she said, "and I'll give orders for your comrade to be left alone."

"You don't recognize me, do you?" she asked.

"I might in better light," Quark said. "It's hard to see in that glare."

She moved the light-stick so that it glowed softly instead of blinding him.

"You're familiar," Quark said.

"I suppose I look a lot different from than when you left me," she said. "15 years is a long time."

"15 years?" Quark asked. "I was on Ferenginar working in a shop then."

"No you weren't," the General said. "You were here. You don't have to pretend with me. I remember everything, in detail."

Quark tried to get a better look at her. He didn't want to tax his strength, but this might be his ticket out of this dump. _They probably don't know how fast we heal,_ he thought. _I can use that to my advantage._

She looked amused, which he thought might be good. A tall soldier wearing a blood stained uniform came into the cell, ducking under the doorway. "General, the Romulans have broken through the lines at section C-14."

She left quickly, but Quark heard her say, "get a medic down here, and have him moved to the hospital as soon as possible. There was a misidentification. He's an ally, not a Romulan spy."

The door shut, leaving them in darkness again. Quark lay back, feeling stronger than before, but still tired. _Who is she?_ he wondered, searching his memory for any General he might have known 15 years ago. _She probably would have been a much lower rank then,_ he thought.

His thoughts turned to Odo, and for a moment he considered letting Odo stew in jail. _It would profit me to leave him here,_ he thought, _but I owe him a debt, and Rule 88 says "Vengeance will cost you everything."_

It was easy to think of conflicting rules, but Quark found himself looking for a loophole. _There's no profit in helping Odo,_ he thought. _Rule 243…"always leave yourself an out". What was it I heard Sisko say once? Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know. For a human he's smart._

 _Rule 261... "A wealthy man can afford anything but a conscience." This isn't conscience; it's business. I need Odo around to make profit because..._

He strained to find some reason to save Odo. _Why am I doing this?_ he wondered. He felt dirty with the sin of considering his enemy's needs over his own greed. _I'm going to have to spend so much money at temple for this,_ he thought. _The priests are going to have me on penance forever._

It was because Odo had tried to save him when there was no profit in it for him. _That shouldn't count for anything against me,_ he thought. _Rule 17 says, "A contract is a contract, but only between Ferengi. I didn't even agree to a contract with him. No one made him do it._

He knew the right thing to do. He should abandon Odo to his own fate and run as soon as he had the chance, but Odo's words came back to him, when he woke in what he thought was an empty cell. _He really wouldn't have left me here alone, even if it had cost him his life. If I sin just this once no one has to know._

There had been very few "slips" in his lifetime, something he was proud of. He knew few Ferengis who honored the Rules of Acquisition as much as he did, and he really _believed._ He didn't pretend to believe so that it could lead to profit among believers, which was in itself in accordance with Rule 87, _"Learn the customer's weaknesses so you can better take advantage of them."_

Quark didn't do anything half-way, and he believed in the Rules with all of his heart. He had managed to hide the times he went against the Rules, but he had a suspicion that sin lurked in his heart that forced him to be generous occasionally.

But he did believe in the equalization of the profit motive. _How can I profit if I help Odo escape?_ he wondered. _I would have him in my debt if I did more for him than he's done for me, and I already know his weaknesses. It's better to have him around than some new law-obsessed Bajoran, which is probably what we would get for chief of security if Odo died here._

He tried to ignore the nagging doubt that came to him. _That's it. I can profit off Odo's survival, so it's ok to save him._

He expected the usual relief and feeling of righteousness associated with following the Rules of Acquisition, but he only felt guilty and slightly tainted.

The medic turned out to be a harsh faced, blue skinned man who immediately pulled off the "bandage" Odo had applied. He went to work silently, cleaning the wound before applying a stinging antiseptic and new bandage. "You need surgery," he said. "We'll have to put something over the wound."

"Change of plans I guess," Quark said. "Why am I being treated differently now?"

"I'm not to speak to you about anything except medical treatment," the medic said. "General Zani's orders."

 _Zani, zani..._ he couldn't place the name.

The medic pulled out a long needle, something Quark had seen in old movies, but that he'd never really believed anyone had used until now. As he watched the medic fill it with a yellowish, almost clear fluid, he couldn't take his eyes of it.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Just a sedative," the medic said.

"I don't need it," Quark said. "I've been having enough trouble staying awake as it is."

"I make the rules here," the medic said.

"I'm not Gamoran," Quark said. "That's probably poisonous to me."

"When we used to go off-world we learned a few things about the races around us," the medic said, "before your people betrayed us to the Romulans. There are a few books about Ferengi anatomy."

"Don't put that thing in me. It's barbaric!" Quark said as the needle came close to his skin. To his relief it was just a small sting and not the stabbing pain he had expected.

 _This place is in the dark ages,_ he thought. The stone cells, the needle, it all pointed to a society that was technologically backwards. _How do they keep beating back the Romulans?_ he wondered.

The medic gave him another shot of what he said was painkiller, and then an antibiotic, which didn't bother him now that he knew that the needle wasn't some sort of medieval torture instrument. The medic left with nothing else to say, and after the inevitable noise from the prisoners calmed down Quark was left alone with his thoughts.

It was a slow-acting sedative, and it made him feel pleasantly drunk - definitely better than the groggy, sick feeling he'd had earlier.

 _Wonder what's happening with Odo,_ he thought. _I wish he'd just shape-shift and get this over with. He must have some reason for still pretending._

Quark wasn't aware that he was slipping away until he woke up in a soft bed that smelled like disinfectant. The bed was surrounded by a privacy curtain of some flimsy white fabric, and through spaces at the edge of the privacy curtain he could see a desk and a female Gamoran. A male Gamoran came to her and handed her a paper.

 _Paper?_ he wondered. _How out of date is this place?_ He didn't like the idea of someone treating him who couldn't even be past using antiquated, dirty means of communication like paper.

He had been undressed and put into some sort of light gown. He thought of his newest purple suit with regret. It had real gold threads woven into the collar and cuffs, to show off his wealth and attract customers.

 _I really liked that suit,_ he thought. _I wonder if I can claim the loss on my taxes as a business expense._

A groan sounded near him, and then a cough from further away. He didn't expect to be alone, and he wondered if the nurses were at least competent.

 _At least I'm hydrated now,_ he thought, glad that the intense thirst had left. Something was attached to him, a tall stand with bottles hanging from it, and tubes leading from the bottles into his arm. He fought panic, and he restrained the urge to pull the tubes out. _They're experimenting on me!_ was his first frantic thought, but he remembered the General's orders, and he decided it must just be another one of their barbaric medical treatments, even though he had no idea what it might do to have tubes in his arm.

A nurse finally came to him, but when he tried to ask her a question about his situation she shook her head. "We're not to speak to you about anything but..."

"Medical treatment," Quark finished for her. "I've heard it before."

Thankfully, she didn't give him a shot, but she didn't do much else either, other than writing on her papers and changing his bandage.

"You don't seem to be having any problems from the surgery," she said.

"Surgery?" Quark asked. He reached to touch his head, but she stopped his hand. He had thought he was growing stronger, but she restrained him as easily as if he was a child.

"There's a protective layer of plastic over the wound," she said. "We had to put in a shunt to relieve pressure on your brain, but there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage. Only time will tell for that. In the meantime we'll drain off any fluid that accumulates, but you seem to be healing already."

"We're fast healers," Quark said proudly, assured again of Ferengi superiority. "What is a shunt?"

"A decompressive craniectomy was performed, and afterwards we had to relieve the pressure. We put a shunt in to reroute the fluid."

Quark looked at her blankly. "I understood precisely none of that," he said.

"We removed a small section of your skull and put in a mechanical device that keeps the fluid in your brain at the right level, and..."

"You what?" Quark yelled. "You cut a hole in my skull?"

"This is a hospital," she said. "You _will_ be quiet, or you will be sedated. It's a common procedure for this type of injury." She looked at a monitor. "Your blood pressure is rising. You need to calm down and trust us to care for you."

 _These backwater hicks cut a hole in my skull!_ Quark thought.

"Normally we would reroute the fluid into the abdominal cavity, but according to the medical books Ferengi actually manufacture excess fluid in case of edema, and we're letting it drain externally." She reached above his head and pulled a small container into his view. It held a slightly yellowish fluid. "You're lucky that before we shut ourselves in we were interested in the anatomy of the races near us."

"That's all there is to it," she said. "I replace the container, and we remove it when we need to. So far we've only had to change it every few hours."

"Every few hours? How long have I been here?"

The nurse looked at a chart. "Two days."

Two days. Long enough for anything to have happened to Odo.

"General Zani said to tell you she'll be in when she can, but until then you're to be treated as a security case." She pulled back the curtain, and Quark saw a very serious looking Gamoran standing by the wall with his arms crossed and his spine ramrod straight. "He'll keep you out of any danger. The General is taking no chances."

"Did she say anything about the man I came with?" Quark asked

"I told you I can't discuss anything other than your treatment," she said.

"Come on, beautiful. Tell me what's happening," Quark said, flashing what he thought was his most winning smile.

She left without saying anything else, but the scowl on her face said enough.

 _Well, that could have gone better,_ he thought. He hated hospitals, and he'd been in a few. A Ferengi didn't live the type of life he chose without getting beaten, shot, or stabbed occasionally. It was the cost of business, and he generally dealt with the consequences of his actions as philosophically as he could - for the first day or so, and then his impatience caused him to get cross with the doctors, who didn't seem to care that he was angry. That made it worse somehow.

He didn't feel safer with the bodyguard, and he tried to stay awake, but it was no use. He lost track of the hours as he dozed despite his best intentions, always waking to the fear inherent in coming to in an unfamiliar environment.

The boredom was usually the worst part of hospital stays, but now he had fearful anticipation to top the boredom. When he heard the clop-clop of shoes he felt hope that something new might happen, but then a fear that it might be a return to the jail, or something worse.

 _I wonder what's happening to Odo,_ he thought.

Many hours – he had no idea how many - and a couple visits from Nurse Silent, as he thought of her, passed, and then the curtain opened to allow the General. Quark saw her face change from strict and hard to soft and pleasant as she looked at him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I've been better," Quark said. "I'd feel more at ease if I had more information. You know me, but I'm at a disadvantage here."

"You still don't remember?" she asked.

"No, and the suspense is killing me," Quark said.

"The last time you saw me I was bandaged and my face was swollen, so I suppose I don't look much like I did then. The Romulans saw to that."

He finally put the pieces of the puzzle together. "Sarafina?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "and my people have a saying that good deeds return to their nest. I still need to know why you came here, but I'll help you get back to your people."

"Where is the guy I was with, Odo?" Quark asked.

"He's in a cell, but no one will bother him unless I order them to. He's still a mystery to me, and I can't trust him yet. There's something shifty about that one."

"You have no idea," Quark said.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

"We were going through the wormhole outside Bajor," Quark said. "We came out in the wrong place somehow."

"I've never heard of Bajor," she said.

"You don't know about much that's off world then," Quark said.

"Only what's near us. Why should we care?" Sarafina asked. "The only thing that ever happened from going off planet was to attract the Romulans. Your people won't help us, and even though the Romulans can't use their weapons in our atmosphere they keep coming back. The only reason we haven't been obliterated is because of a lucky chance that their technology is incompatible with something in our environment. They can land ships here, but the type of energy they use for weapons doesn't work, so they're stuck with the same types of warfare we're used to. We're better leaving the universe to fend for itself. It doesn't need us, and we don't need it."

Her face had hardened, and Quark saw the hate there that he would have expected had he thought about it. "I forgot how bad you had it back then," Quark said.

She smiled again. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you, and I've never forgotten that. We're so tired of the constant war here. We beat them back to build more weapons and train soldiers so we can beat them again the next time they come. I don't even know what they're after."

"So reach out for help," Quark said. "The Romulans paid us to stay out of the war. You could at least try to bargain for our help."

"I wouldn't know how to begin," Sarafina said, "and we wouldn't have anyone that would be qualified for something like that."

Quark could practically see the latinum in his future if he managed to land this contract. "I'll help you," he said. "We can discuss terms later."

"I'm beginning to think the gods must have sent you," Sarafina said. "First you show up when I needed you the most, and now you might be able to help us find peace at last."

A nurse arrived again, and the General stepped back to let her work. After the nurse left she said, "we drove the Romulans away, again, and I want to start working towards a contract as soon as possible. We'll send your comrade back to his people if you can vouch for him. I already had him moved to one of the more comfortable cells."

"He's the most honest man I know," Quark said dryly, and he knew that anyone but a Ferengi would think that was a complement. "He's painfully honest. I need to go back too though. I can't leave my bar in the hands of my idiot brother for too long."

"Then I'll come with you," she said. "It's been so long since we've had any hope I can't let that get away now."

"You're going off-world?" Quark asked.

"I'll do anything to help my people," Sarafina said.

 _She's too much like Odo,_ Quark thought. _At least she likes me. I can use that._

"As soon as you're strong enough to travel we can leave," she said.

"Odo can pilot the ship," Quark said. "I could leave now if someone can show me how to work this shunt they put in my head. I still can't believe they cut a hole in my skull. That's barbaric."

"We don't exactly have access to better medical technology," Sarafina said. "I'm hoping that will change soon."

When she left he began planning his strategy to get the protection contract for Sarafina's people. _There's something here the Romulans want,_ he thought. _They'd never think to just buy it, but we could and then sell it to them. They get whatever resource they want, these people get peace, and I get lots and lots of money._

Quark stretched, put his hands behind his head, and smiled. _This could work out very well. I didn't even have to do anything distasteful like actually help Odo._ He spent the next few hours day daydreaming about the casino moon he would build, with himself surrounded by diamonds, bricks of gold pressed latinum, and barely dressed dabo girls.

It was two excruciating days before the doctors would let him leave, and even then it was over their protests. Sarafina had been taking care of personal and business concerns before she left, so she didn't get to see him much. After Quark had vouched for Odo he'd been let out of his cell, but he was sour about his treatment and let anyone who came near him know what he thought about it.

He spent a lot of time with Quark, and Quark grew tired of seeing him every time he woke.

"You don't have to stay here," he said the fifth time he woke to see the irritated lawman nearby. "I'm not going to die."

"I'd rather be here than out there," Odo said. "I'm used to being looked at as an oddity, but these people are so xenophobic that they're all either frightened of me or aggressive. I'll be glad to get away from here."

The day they were supposed to leave the doctors didn't want to let him go. "You're still making too much fluid," one of them said.

"I've seen the nurse drain it," Odo said from outside the curtain. "I can do that for him."

"Come in, since you're listening anyway," the doctor said, and Quark saw what Odo had been talking about. As soon as he walked in, the three doctors who had been assigned to his complicated case fairly radiated anger. Quark found himself in the unfamiliar position of pitying Odo. He didn't even know why they were so mad at Odo, unless it was because he was a changeling. No one liked changelings except for those freaks that had been genetically engineered to serve them. Even races that didn't know what he was seemed uncomfortable with Odo at first, probably because he lived right in the middle of the uncanny valley. He looked _almost_ like a humanoid, and that was disturbing. There was just enough _off_ about his face to draw attention, and then a shuddering suspicion that he wasn't quite real.

One of the doctors showed Odo how to change the containers, and when they were left alone Quark said, "why are you doing this?"

"I want to get back to DS9," Odo said. "I'm surprised you'd trust me enough to let me handle something sticking directly out of your brain."

"What choice do I have?" Quark asked. "I need to get out of here before they start applying leaches or sacrificing animals."

"I'm sure they wouldn't do that," Odo said.

"Sarcasm is lost on you," Quark snapped, irritated with Odo as usual.

With his suit gone he had to settle for local clothes, and they were unbecoming. A brown tunic and pants that fitted loosely, and sandals. _Sandals,_ he thought. _I look like I ought to be handing out religious tracts on Bajor._

They put Quark in a wheelchair, which Sarafina insisted on maneuvering, and Quark quickly tired. By the time they'd left the hospital and used a local transport to reach their shuttle he could barely keep his eyes open.

The shuttle lacked a ramp, so Quark tried to stand, but he sat down again, heavily.

"Get up there," Sarafina said to Odo. "I'll help with him."

It was only a few steps, but the chair couldn't have made it. Sarafina lifted him from behind, easily pulling him up and passing him to Odo, who pulled him into the ship and pulled Quark's arm around his shoulder so he could help him to a seat, where Quark fell asleep almost immediately.

He woke at a pressure on his wound, and he saw Odo bending over him. "Be still," Odo said. "I need to change your container. It's been about 8 hours since we left, and it's getting full. You should probably eat too."

The ride back was tense. Odo didn't appreciate being treated like a common criminal, and Quark cringed every time Odo snapped at Sarafina, who to her credit held her own verbally. The little runabout could only hit warp two, and it took days to get to DS9, days full of growing tension between her and Odo. Quark decided that could play in his favor, but it was still awkward.

Sarafina spent her time reading Quark's Portable Rules of Acquisition, which he loaned her without asking for payment, since he expected a lot of profit from her in the future. She had questions for him, and he thought that she might have made a good student if it wasn't for her stubborn insistence that Ferengi women were treated badly. She didn't agree with his philosophy, but she seemed to understand the basics fairly quickly, although she would always argue whenever a Rule about women was mentioned.

 _There's no family troubles or discontent in our homes,_ he thought. _I don't see what she thinks is the problem._

During the trip Quark contacted Ferenginar and began to try to barter for Sarafina's people, but his plan failed almost as soon as it had begun when the Nagus unexpectedly became involved.

"I can't do anything for you with the Ferengi," Quark told Sarafina after the Nagus told him that there was no chance they would do anything to anger the Romulans. They made too much profit to risk losing that contract over a long shot.

The little runabout had a very limited communication range, and they only had a couple of hours where they were close enough to Ferenginar to communicate, but Quark knew from the Nagus tone that he'd have to find another way to close the deal.

"You could try the Federation," Quark said. "They have as many problems with the Romulans as you do. They're tricky though. You'll want to let me broker the deal."

Of course he had to explain the Federation to her, and he suggested that she needed to read up on the cultures she'd be encountering before they continued.

"I suppose so," she said. "I'm really only interested in the ones that will affect our contract."

"You really are missing a lot by hiding on your planet," Quark said. "There's an entire universe to buy and exploit out there."

She laughed. "You do make the best jokes, Quark."

Quark had no idea what she thought he was joking about.

She had been very interested in the little runabout, saying it was the most advanced technology she'd ever seen, but when she saw DS9 Quark had to fight the urge to laugh loudly as she stared wide-eyed out the viewport.

"It's so beautiful," she said.

Odo snorted. "You wouldn't say that if you knew its history."

"You're too cynical," Sarafina said. "I've never seen anything like it."

Odo was greeted curtly when he signaled the ship. "Where have you been?" Sisko asked. "You're overdue."

"We had some problems," Odo said. "We were out of communication range until just now. I need to have Quark taken directly to sick bay."

Sisko rolled his eyes. "I should have known he'd be involved. Come see me immediately, Odo. Sisko out."

Quark had grown strong enough that he could have walked, or so he said, but Odo and the medics insisted that he ride on a stretcher. As Quark was loaded onto a stretcher, over his protests, Odo was just glad to be back to the station, and away from Quark's irritating friend, and Quark of course.

Sarafina looked around wide-eyed as they went to sick-bay, and Quark didn't miss the appreciative glace she got from Dr. Bashir as she waited for Quark.

 _Always after the new girls,_ Quark thought. _He'd better leave this one alone, or he'll have problems with me. I can call in his debts. They're modest enough, but I bet he wouldn't want people knowing that he owes me gambling money._

Dr. Bashir traced the red welt around the plastic covering. "What did you manage to do to yourself this time?" he asked.

Quark had tried to avoid looking at mirrors and reflective surfaces since they'd left, but they were surrounded by metal fixtures. He could see Dr. Bashir in their reflection, touching his head, and the ugly container marring his good looks. He could still see part of his skull, and it creeped him out.

"Can you get that barbaric thing out of me?" Quark asked.

"I need to find out what they did first," Bashir said. "Where did this happen?"

Quark briefly explained what had happened, leaving out how he knew Sarafina. _Maybe if he assumes we're together he won't bother her,_ he thought.

Bashir grimaced when Quark described the skull cutting operation, and he had Quark lay on a medical bed while he used some device on him that moved over his head and emitted a red, pulsing light. Quark didn't know or care what he was doing. He just wanted to be rid of Bashir and free to sleep in his own bed, after making sure Rom hadn't destroyed his livelihood, of course.

"They did a good job for such a low-tech civilization," Dr. Bashir said. "I need to take a skin sample so I can grow some replacement skin for you. It will take several days to a week to grow that much skin. This will be my first time to treat a wound like this on a Ferengi. You'll just have to put up with the covering until then."

"I have to go around the station showing off my skull?" Quark asked.

"I can put a bandage over it, but there isn't much else I can do for now." Quark reluctantly let him bandage the area.

"There's no permanent injury, but I think you're still showing symptoms of a concussion," Dr. Bashir said, pulling Quark into consciousness from a sleep he hadn't even realized he'd fallen into. One moment Dr. Bashir had been saying something about wound care, and the next moment Quark was waking, having fallen asleep mid-sentence. "Have you been having problems falling asleep randomly?"

"Yes," Quark said. "It's getting better, but I tire quickly."

"It should pass in a day or two with medication and rest," Bashir said. "I want you to come back if it doesn't, or if there's any complications. Otherwise you're free to go."

Quark looked into the shiny metal surface of the storage cabinet behind Bashir and touched the bandage, picturing the ugly scar left from the surgery, and the smaller, new scar where Dr. Bashir had removed the shunt. "Can you do anything about the scars?" he asked.

"I'm too busy to schedule in elective surgery," Dr. Bashir said. "You'll have to get that planet-side, but I don't see why the scar can't be at least minimalized, if not concealed or removed completely. I'll be putting new skin there in a few days anyway. You'll still have a scar around the area with the new skin, but that's up to you to find treatment for."

"At least the plastic will be gone," Quark said.

"I know it's ugly, but it did exactly what it was supposed to do."

After Quark got off the bed, Bashir said, "by the way, your friend is interesting. I haven't seen her around before."

"She's off limits," Quark snapped.

Bashir gave him a hypo-shot. "That should give you a boost to your immune system and speed healing, although I've never seen anyone heal as fast as Ferengis anyway. I put something in there to help give you a bit of strength. Not much, mind you, just enough to help you along today. You'll probably have more energy, but don't overdo it. I want you to rest for a couple of days. If you have any new symptoms like headache, dizziness, nausea, or concentration problems come tell me. And you'll be at an increased risk of depression."

"I'll do that," Quark said, but he was barely listening. He almost immediately felt stronger after the shot, and he was thinking about how much damage Rom might have done to his finances in his absence. "Thank Latinum for modern medicine," he said.

Quark proudly left the sick-bay with Sarafina, smirking at the looks the two of them got as they walked. _That's right,_ Quark thought. _She's with me._ Just because it was a platonic relationship didn't mean Quark couldn't enjoy the status that being with such a beautiful woman leant him.

He needed to go to the bar, but he couldn't show up with a bandage across his forehead. It would raise too many questions, and he had an image to maintain. Showing up looking grungy and maimed wasn't part of it.

Garak could help him of course. He would try to weasel any information he could get out of him, but he was easily dealt with. He didn't want to take Sarafina there though. Garak was slippery and dangerous, and Quark thought that Sarafina didn't have anywhere near enough experience with outsiders to deal with him yet, if she ever would. He took her to the promenade, and as they looked down from the observation area she just marveled at the scene.

"It's so clean and...straight," she said. "All the stores are in a line, and there's so much metal."

"I have a few things to take care of," Quark said. "I'll come back for you, but why don't you look around for a while?"

He pointed at the large brass clock in the center of the promenade, with its silver, backlit digital numbers. "I'll meet you back here in two hours…er…when the big hand swings around twice."

Garak was helping a wealthy looking human when Quark walked in, so he stepped behind a display of men's trousers to avoid her seeing his shabby attire. After she left Quark stepped out into the open, and Garak noticed him for the first time.

He laughed openly before putting his hand over his mouth. "Excuse me," he said, "but that's not a look that suits you."

"I wouldn't be here if it was," Quark said. "I ruined that nice purple suit you made for me. Do you have anything I can get quickly? I have clothes at home, but I don't want anyone else to see me like this, especially at the bar, and I have to go through there to get to my quarters."

"You want to buy off the rack?" Garak asked. "Surely you wouldn't stoop to that. I can design you something new. What happened to your head?"

Quark touched the bandage self-consciously. "I fell," he said. "What about the suit?"

"I have one about your size in the back," Garak said. "One of my other Ferengi customers decided he didn't want it after he ordered it."

He pulled the suit out, and Quark immediately liked it, even though he made sure not to show Garak any sign that he wanted it. It was a dark pin-striped grey three-pieced suit of a type he'd never seen before.

"These are all the rage on Ferenginar," Garak said. "Human style is in this year."

Quark felt the fabric of the lapel. "The hu-mons do have style sometimes," he said, "in clothes and weapons at least."

"This is in the style of what they used to call gangsters," Garak said. "Aggressive merchants, like your own people."

"I suppose it will do," Quark said, "but since it was made for someone else I'll expect a discount, of course."

Garak smiled, and Quark knew he meant it to be much less sinister than he managed to convey. "For you, Friend Quark, I'll find a way to discount it, even though it means I'll take a loss."

Quark tried the suit and turned in front of the mirror admiring himself. It could have almost been tailored for him, although the original intended owner had longer arms than he did.

"I'll bring it in for alterations," Quark said. "I need some shoes too. The same as I bought last time, the black ones."

They were mid-range in price, nice enough to look classy without costing him much money. Quark preferred to spend his money where it would do the most good. Garak kept them in stock. He explained the concept of ties, which Quark had trouble understanding until he saw the effect. "It does pull it all together somehow," he said.

"You need something to cover the bandage," Garak said. He pulled an odd hat off a rack. "This goes with the look rather well. It's called a Fedora, and it's going to be the hot new thing. I had it specially made for the other Ferengi. The original design was far too small."

"Hu-mon's heads are freakishly small," Quark said.

Garak put it on Quark's head and tilted it so that it sat at an angle and almost entirely obscured the bandage.

Quark rearranged it slightly and decided the look was almost as good as his purple suit. It was time to close the deal and then show admiration for the artistry involved. Garak wasn't much of a challenge, really. A little flattery went a long way if it was sincere, and he really was so good at his job that it was easy to flatter him. There weren't many people on the station that could appreciate Garak's genius as a tailor. Quark knew he was more than a simple tailor; he had to be, but he had missed his calling in life until he took it as a cover.

He knew better than to ask Garak to recreate the purple suit. It would insult him, as if his creations weren't one-of-a kind.

"I really did like that purple suit," Quark said. "Can you make me something new?"

Garak stood back and tilted his head. "I see you in electric blue," he said.

"You're the master," Quark said. "I trust your judgment."

"I assume you want to wear this now," Garak said. "I'll put your old clothes in a bag."

"You can put them in the incinerator," Quark said.

"They are rather below your usual standards," Garak said.

Quark always felt his best in a new suit, sharp and ready to buy the world. Sarafina looked at him quizzically when she saw him. "I've never seen any clothes like that," she said. "You couldn't fight in them very well."

He felt slightly deflated, but he couldn't have expected her to understand style. She was, he reminded himself, a backwater hick as well.

The bar was still there, which was something he always worried about when he had to leave it with Rom. It wasn't that his brother was stupid, so much as... no, he was stupid.

Rom was polishing a glass while he chatted with a customer, but he stopped when he saw Quark and Sarafina walk in. Dax was sitting with a Klingon Quark didn't recognize, and he saw the intense interest Dax was taking in his new friend as they walked in.

"I need to check on the bar and see what he's done to it," Quark said, "and then I can get you settled and we can get to work."

"That's fine," Sarafina said. "I need a bit of time to soak this all in. It's too much at once."

 _If she thinks this ghetto part of the universe is too much she'd die if she ever saw a starship,_ Quark thought. _I'll have to find a way to show her one, maybe in the holodeck. That's going to blow her mind._

Sarafina sat patiently while Quark talked to Rom in the back, hearing his voice raise and lower occasionally. She could make out that he was arguing with another Ferengi about profits and losses, but she lost interest in the financial conversation and looked around the bar. Everything glittered, like it was covered with mirrors and sequins, and she wasn't sure what to think of it.

A thin woman with a face half marked with spots slid into the chair next to her, and Sarafina tensed. She didn't like the idea of interacting with aliens, but then she reminded herself that that was what she had come to do. She might as well start here.

"I'm Dax," the newcomer said, holding out her hand and smiling openly. "I like to meet the new people who come in. This is sort of my regular haunt."

Sarafina only understood half of what she was trying to say, and she looked down at the offered hand. "I don't know about off-world manners," she said.

"You grasp it and we shake hands," Dax said. "It's a way of greeting."

Sarafina took Dax's hand and shook it uneasily.

"So, Quark leaves for a few days and brings back a new friend. I'm a little curious."

"I knew him a long time ago," Sarafina said. She looked at Quark, who was fuming at his brother, and she couldn't help but feel amused by him. _He looks so silly right now,_ she thought, and she wondered how he could be so serious and competent and then seem so ... ridiculous. That hat was bad enough, but she couldn't help but feel fond of him.

"Your face says it all, you know," Dax said. "You love him, don't you?"

"Of course," Sarafina said. "He seems like a brother to me."

Dax stopped, surprised at the simple honesty of the answer. "I've never seen you around here before. When did you two meet?"

Sarafina remembered the day, that horrible day of pain and loss.

"I've never told anyone about that," she said.

"I'm out of line then," Dax said.

"No," Sarafina said, "but it was a very bad time, and besides, who would have believed me if I said I met an unselfish, generous Ferengi?"

"Not me," Dax said, "and I've known a few Ferengis."

"It was the day the Romulans came, again. They invade occasionally, and we drive them back again and again. We don't know what they want, and we just keep building up for the next time they come. This time I happened to be there when they landed."

She stopped and tried to fight back the memory, to will it to fade to simple facts. The raw feeling of the memories faded, for the moment.

"I've studied their former attacks, and they weren't usually cruel, just business like, killing whatever was in their way and moving on. I must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two of them caught me and a few of my friends."

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"You don't have to do this," Dax said.

"I do," Sarafina said. "Quark deserves it. I never got to thank him, and it isn't right that no one even knows what he did."

"Go on then," Dax said.

"The only reason I'm alive is that they worked their way through my friends before they reached me. I was only 7. They liked to cut the feet for some reason. I've never felt pain like that again in my life."

Dax did something that Sarafina was unsure how to feel about. She reached out and took her hand. Sarafina thought she must have meant it as a comfort, but she'd never known anyone to be so familiar. Still, it felt good to have someone to confide in, finally.

"The door burst open and I saw a Ferengi soldier come in. He wanted them to stop cutting me, but they just laughed at him, and they reminded him that he was in their pay. When one of them picked up a knife and cut me again he just snapped and killed him. And then the other Romulans attacked him, and he killed them so easily they might as well have been unarmed."

Sarafina stopped and watched Quark, still arguing with Rom in the backroom. She couldn't see Rom - whose name she knew because she'd heard it yelled a few times now - but she could hear him. Quark was waving his arms now, so angry he could barely control himself.

A soft, warm feeling filled her.

"It was Quark," she said. "I didn't know his name yet. I knew what Ferengis were. We hated them - still do, because they let us suffer for no reason, and they will hire out to the Romulans if the money is good enough. He grabbed me and ran, and he found a storm drain to hide in. I hurt so badly I could barely move, and when he left me there I was sure I'd die."

"He left you to die in the storm drain?" Dax asked.

"He came back with bandages, medicine, and supplies. He told me that he couldn't go out again, and we'd have to make what he'd stolen last for three days, that the offensive would be over by then, and that after they'd gotten what they'd wanted they'd leave, and he knew where a personal craft was that had lost its owner in battle. He said he didn't know what the Romulans wanted, but they'd told him to plan on three days of fighting. I didn't understand what he meant then, but it's always been three days for them. No attack has ever lasted longer, although we defended ourselves a few times well enough that they left after a day."

"It was cold - bitterly cold. He held me close during the cold nights, telling me stories I was in too much pain or too drugged to understand, but his voice reached me, and I knew I was safe as long as he was there. He sang to me when it hurt the most, and I still hear his voice at night sometime. The last day we almost ran out of food, and he refused to eat. He gave me all of what was left, and then the next morning he said the Romulans should be gone. He carried me out into what had been the city, and I saw nothing but destruction. He walked, carrying me for a day before we found anything. He would stop occasionally and loot a house or store for supplies, and I would close my eyes and hide my face against his chest so I wouldn't see the dead bodies. We slept in a half-collapsed house that last night, and we were out of pain medication. The next day he found a group of survivors, turned me over to them, and left. I never thought I'd see him again, and then he just turned up on my planet with a plan to help my people."

"You're telling me that Quark did something without asking anything in return, without getting a profit?" Dax asked.

"Yes," Sarafina said. "I've heard about Ferengi, and I know it's unbelievable, but it happened."

"You shouldn't tell anyone else about this," Dax said. "I understand that what he did was noble, but his people wouldn't see it the same way. They'd think he was weak and sinful."

"How could that be sinful?" Sarafina asked. "I've never seen anyone so brave."

"You only knew him for a few days," Dax said. "He's more complicated than that. I'm not saying he isn't a good person," she said when she saw the angry look on Sarafina's face, "but he's a Ferengi, and they don't believe in doing anything that isn't for profit. I've known him for years, and I had no idea he had it in him to do something like that."

"I think we all have more in us than we might expect, or that others might allow us to be," Sarafina said.

"You're a philosopher too?" Dax asked. "This could be interesting."

Sarafina shook her head. "Philosophers don't survive battles. A person needs a good, logical head on their shoulders, not a lot of useless sentimentality."

Quark returned to them, his face flushed and tinged with sweat. He smiled widely. "I see you ladies have been getting acquainted."

Sarafina wondered why he looked nervous, and why Dax was looking at him with a decidedly mischievous smirk.

 _Ex-girlfriend?_ Sarafina wondered. _I hope I didn't get him in trouble by talking to her like that._

A large Klingon walked into the room, scowling. He waved in their direction and sat in a corner booth with two of his friends.

Dax waved at him. "Got to go," she said cheerily. "Nice to meet you Sarafina. If you need any help find me." She glanced at Quark as she passed the bar. "I'm _so_ curious to see how this turns out. I like the new look Quark - very classic."


	3. Chapter 3

Ch 3

Running into Dax brought to mind something Quark hadn't considered when he'd brought Sarafina to DS9. He'd also brought his shame with him. He had killed his employers and committed the mortal sin of doing an altruistic deed at the cost of large amounts of profit.

"Sarafina, I know you don't know much about off-worlders, but I need you to keep how we met a secret," Quark said. "I don't regret what I did, but most people wouldn't understand, and I can't afford bad publicity."

"Dax told me," Sarafina said. "I'll just say we met in a bar. Is that better?"

"You know what bars are then?" Quark asked.

She waved her hand to encompass her surroundings. "This is one, right? I've been in drinking houses before, Quark. I'm not naive."

 _Maybe not on your own planet,_ he thought.

"I'll be careful," she said. "You never have to worry about me hurting you, or your business."

Those large brown eyes were too sincere for his taste, and he squirmed a bit. _So much like Odo,_ he thought, and just like with Odo he knew she meant every word of what she'd said. _The universe will eat her alive if I don't teach her quickly._

"I'm glad you're here," Quark said, and he wondered why he felt lightness instead of the massive guilt he knew he deserved.

Rom was watching. _I'd better get started with this,_ he thought. _The sooner we can start the sooner I can make profit._

"Rom, this is Sarafina. Fix a couple of drinks for me and the lady," he said. "What do they drink on your planet?"

She shrugged. "I drink what I can get. I'm not picky. I've spent too many days eating whatever I can find and kill to worry about things like that."

"Something fruity then," Rom suggested. Quark didn't like to admit it - even to himself - but Rom was a good bartender. He had a way of reading people's needs almost before they even knew what they wanted themselves.

"Whiskey on the rocks for me," Quark said. "Make it a double."

"Are you sure I'm not too _stupid_ to serve your drinks, Brother?" Rom asked.

A dozen Rules clanged around in Quark's head and fought for attention as the situation became more awkward by the second. That was something else Rom could do, make his life suddenly awkward. But Quark finally decided on an Apocrypha Rule, one that he wasn't sure had a number. _Keep your servants just content enough to stay, and your family just coddled enough to feel obligated to you._

"It wasn't that bad," Quark said. "I might have overreacted a little."

Rom raised one massive eyebrow.

"The bar is my baby," Quark said. "I did choose to leave it with you instead of anyone else. You did ok."

Rom's face had an odd elasticity to it, and when he smiled it was as if his whole face became animated. He lacked the fine, straight teeth of his brother, and there was something about the roundness of his face that made him look a bit goofy in Quark's opinion, but when his Brother smiled Quark could never stay mad at him.

As Rom brought out the drinks, Quark picked out the umbrella in his and handed it back to him. "I don't need that," he said. "Don't waste the decorations on people who won't appreciate them. They cost money."

"Presentation brings back customers," Rom said. "It's an investment, and I got these on clearance. We have five crates of them taking up room in the back."

It was an old argument between the two of them, but Rom usually won. He had insisted on the flashy, expensive look for the bar, with real gold inlays in the counter and a statue made of an actual gold bar carved into the shape of a nude Bajoran woman, kept in a locked case where everyone could see it. It had given Quark fits to give up the gold bar, even if it wasn't latinum, and he slowly took it out of Rom's salary, but he had to admit that the place had a panache that it would have lacked without Rom's intuitive understanding of visual marketing principles. He didn't know how Rom could be so brilliant with abstract concepts and so stupid with anything physical or concrete, but he managed to do it.

Quark tasted the whiskey and eyed Rom suspiciously. "Is this the good whiskey?"

Rom shrugged. "It's about mid-grade."

Quark handed him the glass and leaned across the bar. "Put it back in the bottle," he whispered, "and bring me the cheap stuff. You've got to learn when to spend money and when to save. Spend money where it makes money, nowhere else."

Rom took the glass away and pulled out a plain bottle from under the counter. "Pour for yourself then," he snapped, and walked away.

Sarafina sipped at her drink.

"You are old enough to drink intoxicants on your planet, right?" Quark asked as a suspicion hit him. _How old is she now?_ he wondered. He couldn't remember how young she'd been when he'd found her, but she had the kind of face that aged slowly. Most races that he'd dealt with restricted their offspring's access to intoxicating poison to some extent or another.

"I'm not a child Quark," she said. "I think you're forgetting how much has changed. I'm a General, you know."

It was hard to imagine. "You don't seem very militant," Quark said.

"I don't have to fight here, at least not yet," she said. "I never wanted to kill anyone anyway, but orphans are always put in the military. I had family, but no parents, so they delivered me to the officials, and I was drafted. I suppose our people probably don't have as much training as the outsiders, but we do get killed off once or twice a generation, so we have to make due."

Quark pictured a frightened child holding a gun.

"And I feel safe with you," she said. "This is your world, not mine. I'll learn who to fight and who to befriend, but until then I think it's just better to observe and learn."

"Smart girl," Quark muttered. "How did you end up as a General in an army though?" He poured a second drink and winced as the cheap grain alcohol tinted to look like whiskey hit his system.

"I was the best," she said simply, with no arrogance, just a statement of facts. "I could mold my energy better than anyone my age, and I learned to project so quickly the teachers had no idea what to do with me."

"Mold your energy?" Quark asked. "Project? Are you psychic?"

"What is psychic?" she asked.

Quark usually didn't drink much, but he needed to take the edge off after his extended stay on that backwards planet, so he poured himself another double. "Do you use your mind to affect the world, or to do something to other people's minds?" He leaned forward, caught up in the chase for profits. _Psychics are good money,_ he thought, _if you can keep them from knowing your motives._

He reeled suddenly as dizziness hit him, and if Sarafina hadn't caught him by the shoulder he might have fallen.

"Brother?" Rom asked. "Are you sick?"

"Yeah," Quark said. "I had a problem a few days ago, and I'm still recovering. I should probably go lie down. Can you take care of getting Sarafina set up in some quarters? Whatever Dr. Bashir gave me must have worn off."

"Did you just drink alcohol on medication?" Rom asked.

"And a concussion?" Sarafina asked. "You can't do that."

"I'm realizing that about now," Quark said. He stood and the room moved around him. He didn't feel weak, but he felt like he'd drunk about half a bottle of strong whiskey instead of the few shots he'd had. He could handle his liquor, and a few shots were barely the beginning of a bender for him, on the rare occasions when he'd felt like celebrating.

He stumbled a bit, but when Sarafina reached out to him he pushed her hand away. "I can walk, thank you," he said, but he had to make his way to his room slowly, keeping his hand on the back of a chair or on a table as he walked by, intent of keeping some dignity. _Dignity and a sack is worth the sack,_ he thought, but he still didn't want his patrons and Rom to see him look like a falling down drunk.

He had made it to his bed and was about to lie down when he realized that he'd wrinkle his new suit. He forced himself to focus long enough to take it off and hang it up properly before allowing himself the luxury of sleep.

He had just turned into bed when he heard the door chime. "Quark?" he heard Rom ask through the monitor. "What did she mean about a concussion?"

"Go away Rom," Quark said.

"Sarafina went to get Dr. Bashir," Rom said. "You can either let me in or I can override the lock. You know I can do it."

"Just a minute," Quark said, pulling on an old robe and slippers. It was a bit shabby, but it was genuine Bajoran Wolf fur, and he loved the feel of it, especially since he'd got it at 50% off with some bargaining. He kept his hand first on the bed and then the wall as he went to the door and let Rom in.

"You're being an intrusive pain in the ear," Quark said.

"I'm being your brother," Rom said.

"Same thing," Quark snapped. He lay on top of the bed to try and stop his head from spinning. He used an old drinking trick and put one foot on the floor, stopping the sensation that his world was spinning in circles. "Wake me when he gets here," he said.

"Why is there a bandage on your head?" Rom asked.

"Don't worry about it," Quark said. He closed his eyes, hoping that Rom might stop talking.

He woke to see something he'd never seen before, an angry Dr. Bashir. "Rom told me what happened," he said. "What possessed you to drink while you had a concussion, and on medication?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Quark said.

He used a tricorder to scan Quark. "You aren't in danger this time, but don't do that again. You could be feeling the symptoms for days. I don't want Rom to have to come get me again because you did something stupid."

"Message received," Quark said. "I'm not planning on doing anything but sleep anyway."

He forgot to set an alarm, and he woke disoriented again. _What day is it?_ he wondered. _How long did I sleep?_

It turned out to only be a few hours, and he thought he'd have time to talk with Sarafina that night. He had to sneak through the bar to avoid Rom, who he didn't want to bother him anymore. Sarafina wasn't there, but Dax was.

She was sitting in a booth alone, which was unusual. She'd probably be surrounded by friends and admirers soon. She raised a glass of red wine to Quark in a sarcastic salute. There was no way for Quark to get to her without walking right by Rom, but he didn't like the idea of his potential profit wandering around the station talking to Latinum knows who - perhaps even Bashir.

His ears itched at the thought, but he couldn't really fault Bashir. She could find worse, and Quark was sure he could take him in a fight, if it came to that. _Bashir wouldn't be interested in the profit he could make off her, but if she tells him about the Romulans he'll probably tell Sisko, and that means the Federation will get to her before I can broker a deal, and all because I didn't think of what alcohol and medical problems can do._

He purposely avoided looking at Rom as he walked toward Dax, trying to look nonchalant and serious at the same time.

"What are you doing?" Rom asked.

"Profit waits for no man," Quark said. _That's good,_ he thought. _I should send that in to the temple and see if they'll buy it to put in the Apocrypha. Good money in that._

"What is so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?" Rom asked. "I know there isn't any major deal you're working on, and the bar is covered. You should be sleeping."

"That's my own business," Quark said. "Sarafina and I have some things to discuss, and I need to find her."

"I don't know where she went," Rom said. "Doctor Bashir came in here, and they left together. If you want her back you'll have a hard time. Even with those small ears the women like him."

"Bashir," Quark spat. "That figures. I turn my back for a few hours and he makes off with her. That's the last thing I need. He could ruin a good deal. I plan to make a lot of profit off of that girl."

"I thought you had a more personal interest in her," Dax said. "She certainly seemed to think you hung the moon."

"I knew her when she was a kid," Quark said, forgetting his own cover story about meeting her in a bar. "You know how kids are. They get attached in the weirdest ways."

"You might as well wait for her," Dax said. "If you go after her and start trouble you'll just make Dr. Bashir look better to her, and I have to tell you that he was pretty smooth when he was talking to her."

"If he hurts her I'll tear his ears off," Quark said.

"Because of your profit?" Dax said smoothly.

"Yes," Quark said. "Because of the profit."

"I've seen you get upset over a deal, but I've never seen you act like this," Dax said. "You really want to fight Julian, don't you? This isn't about profit, is it?"

Quark glanced around, checking to see who was in earshot. He slid into the booth opposite Dax. "Keep that down, will you? You could get me into some trouble."

"There are a few exceptions in the Rules that involve how you treat a potential mate," Dax said. "They're considered an investment."

"The children they make are an investment," Quark said. "Women are a financial liability. Where did you get the idea I'm looking for a mate, anyway?"

"You're always looking at women," Dax said.

"I look," Quark said. "but I'm not ready to make any mergers. It's no life for a businessman off world, and I don't plan on going back to Feringar. There's too much out here, and life is tame there comparatively. The women want a man to be at home, and I need room to move around."

"So you bought a new, expensive suit when she came here just because you suddenly felt the need?" Dax asked. "Not because you were trying to impress her?"

"Not a bit, actually," Quark said. "I have no interest in her that way."

"I don't believe you," Dax said. "Can you honestly tell me you don't look at her and see more than profit?"

Quark remembered her huddled against his chest under his winter coat, her tiny fists clenched in his shirt as she whimpered in pain. A long forgotten pain clutched at him at the memory.

"I can't say that," he said, "but it isn't what you think."

"She told me everything," Dax said.

 _How did I forget that?_ Quark wondered. _I must be having memory problems, but I'm not going to Dr. Bashir, not now._

"You've had children in other hosts," Quark said. "I never will, and there's something about her that just pulls at me. She makes me think of what I'll never have."

"What do you mean you'll never have children?" Dax asked. "You're still young, and I've seen you with some attractive women. You do seem to pick the dominant type a lot, but whatever suits you, I guess. Doesn't seem very Feringee, how you let women be so independent." She smirked at him.

Quark grimaced at the unintentional dig. _She doesn't know about Moogie,_ he thought.

"I've never known a married man yet that didn't lose more profits because of his family upkeep than he ever got in return. Children pay off, eventually."

"She's a little old to think of as a child," Dax said.

"I guess," Quark said. "I really only want children because of the profit potential anyway." _It's just for profit,_ he thought. It wasn't because there were little hands to hold, little feet to put shoes on. He pictured himself teaching a boy his first Rules. The women usually did that, but he wanted to. _Profits are more important,_ he thought, but he wouldn't have anyone to playfully argue with when he was old, no one to spar with mentally as he tried to scam his own father in a rite of passage that Quark had missed with his own father. _He died too soon,_ Quark thought. A few tears ran down his cheek, unbidden.

"Quark, are you ok?" Dax asked.

Quark had been distracted, and he focused on the conversation with a start. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm just feeling sentimental today. I tried to forget Sarafina, and now she's here, and all my sins come back to me with her. I still can't believe I did that. I'm glad you're the only one who knows. I can trust you to keep a secret."

"I don't think you're well," Dax said. "You never talk this way. I talked to Dr. Bashir while he was here, and he said to let you sleep as long as you would, but he told me what to watch for. He mentioned depression."

"I'm not depressed," Quark said, "I'm distressed. I cared more about some strange child than I did my employers or my own interests. I didn't plan anything. It just happened, like it was natural to me. Dax, you don't know what this means."

"I've known a lot of Feringees," Dax said. "The reason I like your people is because you're so much more complicated than you know you are. You say you don't care about anything but profit, but I know you'd spend your last credit if Rom or Nog were in serious trouble."

"They're family," Quark said. "That's different."

"And I know you'd call it a loan and charge him massive interest afterward," Dax said.

"But there's profit in family," Quark said. "You have to have a tribe to protect you, and you protect them. It just makes sense."

"And it has nothing to do with love?" Dax asked.

"You know better than that," Quark said. "We know how to love. We just know its place. Love is something that has to be protected and nurtured, just like profit."

"You're a bit of a poet, aren't you?" Dax said.

"No," Quark said. "I just know what I've seen. My father loved my mother, and he stuck by her even when she did some heretical things. He put love over profit, and it was right somehow. I can't believe I'm even thinking this way!"

"Is that why this bothers you so much?" Dax asked.

"Dax, I think I'm a bad Feringee," Quark said. It felt good to get it out in the open. "I know how the people around here think of us, but they're just as motivated by profit as we are; they just won't admit it. I've built my life around the Rules of Acquisition, and now I find out that I can't keep the most basic tenants if a strange child needs my help."

He looked away toward the wall and downward at the table, hiding his face from Dax as the tears began to flow. _What the hell?_ He thought.

Dax put her hand under his chin and gently lifted his face so that she could look him in the eyes. "For what it's worth, I think you're a wonderful Feringee. You know any human that acted as aggressive as a Klingon would be considered insane, but that's admirable for a Klingon. This struggle that you're having, searching for truth and trying to be the best man you can be is honorable to me. What you did might be sinful to your people, but it's so admirable to mine. And doing something so kind for a child at the cost of your own good, and especially just out of the depths of your heart without any premeditation, with no hope of repayment in the future - that would be one of the best attributes a Trill could have."

Quark suddenly felt his cheeks grow hot, and he was uncharacteristically embarrassed. _By the gods she's beautiful,_ he thought.

"You've never talked about anything like this," Dax said, "and I think you might still be suffering from that concussion. We can talk later, but I think you need to go to bed. Tomorrow you'll feel more like yourself."

"I need to find Sarafina," Quark said. "On her own planet she's respected and feared, but out here she's a target for every con artist."

"I'll look after her for you," Dax said, "but you shouldn't worry about Dr. Bashir. He's a kind man who treats women well, and she's too pretty not to attract men. She could do much worse, and he won't look to profit off of her."

"That's true," Quark said, finally seeing something good in the current situation. "He'll protect her interests."

"And, by extension, your own," Dax said. "You don't delegate well. I know how crazy it makes you to leave the bar with Rom, even though it's always fine when you get back. Go to sleep and let me take care of this."

 _I can't let a woman make profit for me,_ Quark thought, but as he looked into those dark, expressive eyes he felt that he could trust Dax with anything, and that he _wanted_ to trust her, that he could feel safe with her.

"Ok. You win," he said. "I don't want to have to deal with Rom or Dr. Bashir again, and I can't do anything if I don't heal."

Dax put her hand on his cheek and slowly ran it down his face, wiping a tear away, and holding eye contact with him. "Don't change," she said. "You're fine just the way you are."

"No woman's ever said that to me," Quark said.

"Maybe it's about time," Dax said. "I'll go see if I can find her, but I'm not interfering with her and Dr. Bashir."

When they stood he had to look up to see her face, and he took in the delicate spots that marked her. "I really do like the new look," she said.

He watched her leave, mesmerized as always by the way she walked and her the sway of her hips.

"What was that about?" Rom asked.

"Were you listening?" Quark snapped. "That was private!"

No," Rom said. "I don't eavesdrop on family unless there's profit involved."

"She's a good friend," Quark said, "too good for me. She thinks I'm something I'm not, and I hope she never learns what I really am. She thinks there's something noble in me, Rom, and if anyone ever lacked nobility it's me."

"I don't like that kind of talk," Rom said. "You're acting really weird. Either you go back to your room and don't come out until tomorrow, or I'll shut the bar early and find Dr. Bashir myself."

"You can't do that!" Quark said. "Think of all the money we'd lose."

"You're my brother," Rom said. "You're more important than profit - usually."

"That's disgusting Rom!" Quark said. "You're just like Father."

"You need to stop talking bad about him," Rom said. "He was good to us, and I miss him."

"I do too," Quark said, "but I've been thinking about the problems he had with Moogie. Did you ever think that all of our family might have something wrong with us?"

"Nog is fine," Rom said, "a little confused, but he's a kid."

"He hangs out with a hu-man," Quark said. "I wonder if he gets bad traits from us."

"What do you mean us?" Rom asked. "You always follow the Rules, you quote them all the time, and I bet you've never done anything in your life that wasn't for profit. You're the perfect Feringee, and you never let me forget about it!"

"What if I wasn't?" Quark asked. "What if I made a mistake?"

"Then I'd like you better," Rom said. "If you climbed down off your high tower and came down here you'd be like the rest of us."

"I always had to be sharp," Quark said. "Father was a failure, and Mother was unpredictable. Someone had to look after the family's interests."

"They both loved us," Rom said.

"I know," Quark said, "but love doesn't pay the bills, and I had to make sure someone in the family was up to snuff. The Rules served me well, and if it wasn't for them I wouldn't have had enough money to help you when Prinadora's father ruined you."

"You did, didn't you," Rom said, "and you look after Nog almost like he's your own. There's no profit in doing things for someone else's kid like that."

"Sure there is," Quark said.

"Really?" Rom asked. "Like what?"

"He's a long-term investment," Quark said.

"Just say that you did everything you did for him because you love him," Rom said.

Quark glanced around, but the bar was empty, and there was no one to hear his brother's embarrassing suggestions.

"Why does it matter why I did it?" Quark asked.

"Because maybe you don't have to be so right all the time," Rom said.

"Fine," Quark said. "He's a good kid, and I guess I love him. You didn't have to make such a bit thing about it. I still expect profit out of him someday. I think that if I teach him well enough, he'll be a good businessman when he gets older, and a partner that I can trust - as much as anyone can trust anyone else."

"You've been getting worse lately," Rom said, "quoting the Rules about everything, and yelling at me about the bar. I made profit while you were gone, but it wasn't as much as you would have made, so you yelled at me. It's not like I lost money - this time."

"You didn't switch the liquor like I told you. When the customers get drunk you're supposed to slip in the cheap stuff. They don't know, they enjoy it just as much, and we save money. But I guess you aren't too bad for a little brother," Quark said, "and I do love Nog, even if I don't get any profit off of him yet."

"It's about time you realized that," Nog said.

"But what if someone helped someone that wasn't family with no hope of profits, maybe someone who wasn't even a Feringee - hypothetically speaking, of course?" Quark asked. "What would you think about that?"

"That's blasphemous," Rom said, "and disgusting. A Feringee like that would lose their business license at least, and probably end up in jail. Do you know someone like that?"

"I just heard a rumor," Quark said, "but you're right. It is a disgusting thought. I think I'm going to my quarters after all."

"I'll be here watching," Rom said, "and if I see you come out tonight I'll go out of my way to help Dr. Bashir and Sarafina get together."

"You were listening!" Quark said.

"No, but now I know what's been going on. Anyway, the way he looks at her is a giveaway."

"How does he look at her?" Quark asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Like you looked at Dax tonight," Rom said. "What's with you two anyway?"

"I'm feeling sentimental because of the knock on the head," Quark said. "I said a few things that she took the way she wanted to, and now she thinks I'm something I'm not."

"What does she think you are?" Rom asked.

"Just…something I'm not," Quark said. "She judges me by Trill standards, not Feringee. I'm not worth it."

"You never felt like that about a woman before," Rom said.

"No, but I did something Rom - something bad, something against the Rules. I try to follow the Rules; you know I do."

Rom's forehead wrinkles moved slightly, like they always did when he was thinking. His jaw dropped open, and he leaned back in his chair with wide eyes.

"Brother, are you the one that helped someone outside the family without hoping for profit?"

Quark just looked down at the counter and wiped away a few crumbs with his finger. "You need to keep the counter cleaner," Quark said.

"Don't try to change the subject!" Rom said.

"I still can't believe it myself. I forgot about it, or I made myself forget about it, but now I can't forget. Do you hate me now?"

"No," Rom said. "Of course not, but it's really wrong. Don't you dare tell Nog about any of this. I won't have him exposed to such heresy! I'm not the best at following the rules, but I would never dream of doing anything like that."

"I'm trying to make profit off her now," Quark said.

"That might earn you some clemency," Rom said, "but you need to go to the Temple and make things right."

"Do you have any idea how much that will cost?" Quark asked. "I'll have to buy the Deluxe Forgiveness Package, and then I'll have to pay the priests The Holy Bribe, and since they know I got the Deluxe Package, I'll have to bribe them again. This could ruin me!"

Rom shrugged. "Do you really want to live with this for the rest of your life?"

"No, but I'm not ruining myself for my conscience. You know what the Rules say about conscience."

"You aren't going to quote it to me?" Rom asked.

"I don't feel up to quoting the Rules," Quark said.

"You really are sick," Rom said. "Stop talking and go to bed. I'm going in there with you to make sure you go this time."

"I do feel out of sorts," Quark said. "I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

"That's it," Rom said. "You're sick and you imagined things earlier. I bet you meant to get profit the whole time, and tomorrow you'll remember. You have to remember," Rom said. He sounded desperate.

Rom took him firmly by the elbow. "Let's go," he said.

Quark shook him off. "I'm not dying, Rom. I can walk to my own quarters."

Rom insisted on going with him, and Quark saw him biting his nails. _Great,_ he thought, _It isn't bad enough that I did something wrong, now I've involved him too._

"You're my brother, no matter what," Rom said. "We'll find a way to fix this."

After Rom left Quark tried vainly to sleep, but he couldn't feel the least bit drowsy. _I couldn't stop sleeping, and now I can't sleep,_ he thought. _Does my own body conspire against me?_

About 10 minutes later Rom knocked on the door again. "What is it this time?" Quark asked.

"I brought you something to help you sleep," Rom said.

"I don't need it," Quark said.

He heard a few clicks and the grating sound of metal on metal, and Rom the door opened. "I told you I could hack the console," Rom said.

 _If only he could be as good at business as he is at computers,_ Quark thought.

Rom brought in a tray with a steaming mug on it. He put it on the bedside table. "It's pureed tube-grubs in hot milk. Just like Moogie used to make when we couldn't sleep."

Quark sipped the hot, thick drink. "It tastes just like her's," he said.

"I'll let you sleep now," Rom said. "That should help."

When he finally slept his dreams were dark and harsh, filled with scenes of his family being exposed for all their shortcomings, and himself being the cause of Rom's failure in business as an adult. He woke with a start. _I'll fix this,_ he thought. _I've been too soft. I helped Sarafina enough when she was a child. I don't owe her anything now, and if I can make profit of her and cheat her then I'll have mostly redeemed myself._

The next morning he overslept, something he rarely did. _That's a loss of profit,_ he thought. He looked through his extensive wardrobe. He'd never been one for hats, and that was the only one he had. He'd already worn it the day before, and Quark never wore the same clothes two days in a row. He had an image to maintain. He reluctantly put on the same suit so he could disguise his head scar.

Feringee didn't wear hats, but Quark thought about asking Garak to design him a couple of new ones. The way Dax had reacted suggested that females might like the hat, and despite the disbelief it would have caused the hu-mon and Bajoran station residents, there were quite a few visitors who came to Quark's because it had panache and style, and he did - in a Feringee sort of way. He enjoyed keeping that style up, and he made sure to keep a careful tally of what he spent. It cost a lot to build a good wardrobe, but good clothes lasted years with proper upkeep. When he'd been younger he'd bought cheap suits that didn't last long before they started to look shabby, and he'd decided it cost him more profit than he lost in buying some things that were more expensive. And besides, he liked looking at himself in a new suit, if he could only get rid of the bandage, get the skin replacement, and then go planet-side for some cosmetic surgery. It was expensive, and time consuming, but worth it. He knew a lot of people who would rather show off their scars as a sign of toughness, but he had already planned that when he grew older and his good looks started to fade he'd find a discrete plastic surgeon and have them create a couple for him so he'd look ruggedly handsome as he lost his younger good looks. He was still far too young for that, though.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4

When Quark came out the breakfast dishes had already been cleared away, and the cook was prepping for lunch.

The time between breakfast and lunch was fairly deserted, and it was a good time to get the prep done, deal with paperwork and have personal meetings. There were only four customers in the bar; a few men in shop jackets that looked like dock workers, and Morn.

The dock workers were loudly engaged in conversation, but Morn immediately looked at Quark, who touched the bandage on his head self-consciously. "I got in a fight with a Klingon."

Morn shrugged and continued nursing his beer, while one of the newest Dabo girls watched the bar and made soft eyes at Morn, who either didn't notice or didn't care.

Rom was working on the books in the back room, biting his lip slightly like he always did when he concentrated. He kept a few small cuts on his lips near every tax day, and whenever he was stressed. The books didn't stress him that much, but his brother being a heretic did. Quark saw three noticeable cuts.

"Stop biting yourself; you're bleeding." Quark said. "Kids do that."

Rom stopped working on the books, and when he moved Quark saw three strips of latinum under his sleeve.

 _I'll take that out of his pay with interest,_ Quark thought. He didn't have the heart to take it from him. _It will make him feel like he's a good businessman if he thinks he got away with it._

Rom just looked at him with a pathetic, hopeful look.

"You were right last night," Quark said. "I just imagined the worst because I was upset."

Rom's smile would have lit up the room, but it only made Quark feel worse.

"I figured out it must be Sarafina," Rom said. "What really happened then? How did you make profit off of her? I need to know."

"I helped her when she was a child, but I forgot that I charged her for it. I made her get me money out of her parents' house. They were rich." He forced himself to hold Rom's eye and keep a straight face. _This is for his own good. It profits me to have my partner believe I'm a good businessman._ He wanted Rom to keep respecting him, too. They fought like Romulans and Hu-mons occasionally, usually over profits, but once over Nog, and twice over women when they were younger. He still had the scar on his shoulder from when Rom bit him when he was 7.

"I knew you wouldn't ever do something like what you said last night," Rom said. "I don't even want to repeat it. Let's never talk about it again."

And Quark remembered when they were kids and he stole Rom's lunch, replacing it with worn out socks. Rom had gotten angry at him and then asked him why he wanted to eat two lunches.

"I didn't eat it," Quark had said. "I sold it."

Rom had gone from being angry to looking at Quark with respect and admiration. "Wow," he said. "I never would have thought of that. You're the smartest big brother ever."

Quark had felt huge that day. It was the first time he felt like a real businessman, but he didn't like the idea of Rom going hungry.

"Here," he said, pulling a sour fruit from his lunch. "You can have part of my lunch."

"Thank you brother," Rom said. He sank his teeth into the messy fruit, and Quark wiped the juice off of his chin. Rom had been so cute when he was little.

"I don't like them anyway," Quark said, even though he did. "I'll send you a bill later."

And now Rom was looking to him to be the big brother that he'd always needed. "I guess that head wound affected me more than I thought. Can you believe the crazy things I said? It's a good thing Dax can keep her mouth shut."

"Yes," Rom said. "There is a lot of profit in a friendship like that."

"I think there will be more profit in it," Quark said. "I don't know many outsiders who understand us, and I've thought before that it would help to have sort of a buffer between myself and the softer races."

"That's talk I like to hear!" Rom said. "You're sounding like your old self."

"I feel more like myself today," Quark said. "Have you seen Sarafina?"

"I got her some quarters, like you said. She said she doesn't have any money, so I paid for the room myself." He handed Quark a receipt. "I expect prompt repayment, of course."

 _That will happen when a Klingon grows flowers,_ Quark thought. "I'll take care of it," he said.

"I haven't seen her this morning," Rom said. He told Quark where her quarters were, but when Quark went there she was gone.

 _Where would she be?_ he wondered. _Dr. Bashir is probably on duty about now, so I'm sure she isn't with him. She's probably getting to know people. I hope she doesn't get herself into trouble._

He returned and found Rom tending bar, his favorite part of the job. "We do have a bar to run," Rom said, "and I worked every day while you were gone. I know you've got some deal working with this Sarafina, but I want some time off."

"Fine," Quark said. "I'll work the bar till tonight. I have no idea where to look for her, and I can work with her when she comes back. I'm teaching her the rules of Acquisition."

"Why?" Rom asked. "She isn't Feringee."

"It's all part of my plan," Quark said. "She's too naive."

"But if you teach her the rules she might make profit off you."

"I hadn't thought of that, but I don't think I have to worry about it."

"Why?" Rom asked. "Even if she doesn't know it, greed rules her life too. Don't make the same mistake I made."

Quark knew what he was talking about. He'd never really gotten over his ex-wife's betrayal. _And all because he put someone else's interests before his own._

"I don't plan on teaching her now to cheat me," Quark said. "I just think she'd do well to have some financial education, so when we work out our deal she can help me."

"That's some bad logic, Brother," Rom said. "I think you just want to teach her. Why don't you get a license and teach Feringee children if you want to teach?"

"It's good money," Quark said. "But I think there's a lot more profit potential here."

"Just be careful," Rom said. "If you teach her the Rules and she cheats you then you could end up on trial. You're too obviously helping her."

"I don't need you to tell me how to run my business," Quark said.

"I know she's pretty," Rom said, "but women are nothing but expensive trouble."

"If this goes through I could have the monopoly on an entire planet's resources, and for a very high-profile client."

Mort signaled for another beer, and Rom drew one and slid it down the bar to him. Mort stopped it, a bit of the foam slopping over the edge. He raised it in a salute and drank half of it quickly, going back to quietly watching the view screen.

"That's a nice trick," Quark said. "Where did you learn that?"

"Chief O'Brian showed me," Rom said. "He said barkeeps should be more entertaining."

"Bartender," Quark said. "I hate the word barkeep. It's so coarse."

"He showed me a movie where the _bartender_ juggled bottles and tossed them around. It looked so awesome! I bet we could make a lot of money if people came in to watch that."

Quark pictured Rom breaking all of his best liquor while he tried to juggle. "Maybe pass on the tossing bottles," he said. "It sounds expensive."

Dax and Sarafina came in together, laughing and chattering as only women could do.

"Well, it's about time," Quark said. "We have work to do. Where have you been?"

"Don't treat me like a child," Sarafina said. "It happens that I've already been working. Dax showed me how to access the library, and I've been reading about the cultures I'll be dealing with, just like you suggested."

 _She listened to what I taught her - with some qualms,_ Quark thought. _The next step is to get her to trust me, and she already does that. I'd usually need to ensure she won't cheat me, but I don't think that will be too hard. All I have to do is keep up the benevolent benefactor facade. She eats that up._

"What did you learn?" he asked.

"Mostly that I'll be glad when I can go home," Sarafina said. "It's insane out here. I like a few of the people, but most humans and Bajorans seem annoying so far."

 _Except for Dr. Bashir apparently,_ Quark thought.

"Once we get the deal you can go home and never leave if you want," Quark said. He glanced at Mort, who was close enough to hear them, even though he seemed uninterested. "Let's go over there," he said, pointing to a corner booth far enough from his small morning crowd.

"I'll let you two talk business," Dax said, "but I'm coming by later. I want to talk to you about something."

 _She thinks I'm going to continue that horrible conversation from last night._ "Dax, I had a concussion. Don't take any of that seriously."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dax said. "I just want to ask you for some financial advice."

The mischievous grin on her face made Quark's ears tingle.

"That is, if you can handle a female doing business," Dax said.

"It's unexpectedly sexy when it's you," Quark said. "I can't wait. We could get some dinner first."

"I've been wanting to try out that new Klingon place. I've heard they serve good racht."

"What is racht?" Quark asked. "It sounds like a disease."

"It's a larger version of gagh," Dax said, "with stronger spices."

"Oh _that,_ " Quark said, searching his memory in vain for the dish. "I love racht - just forgot the name."

"You love racht?" Dax asked. "I wouldn't have thought that it was your type of food."

"I've tried a lot of culinary oddities," Quark said. "I am well traveled, you know."

"Ok, well I'll meet you there about 7," Dax said.

 _I got a date with a Trill. Let's see how many Feringee could pull that off,_ Quark thought.

After Dax left, Sarafina asked him, "what is racht?"

"I should probably find out," Quark said. "It's Klingon food, so it's probably over spiced and either gray or brown."

"You've never eaten Klingon food, have you?" Sarafina asked.

"She doesn't know that," Quark said. "I can fake it for a meal."

"Now why would you want to do that?" Sarafina asked. "Is there a lot of profit in pretending to like Klingon food?"

"Stop patronizing me," Quark said. "I'll find a way to make profit off of it, and half of that is either lying or misdirection."

"That's a cynical thing to say," Sarafina said.

"It's just realistic," Quark said. "All of the races do it; they just pretend like love is some spiritual thing untouchable by logic or greed, and yet I've never met a sentient being that didn't have strict standards for the mate they choose. With Klingons it's the strongest females, with Bajorans it seems to be the ones who follow their religion and take the most interest in rebuilding Bajor, and with hu-mons..."

Quark stopped. "I have no idea with hu-mons. I don't think they know, but it's just another type of greed - greed for the type of children they want to spawn."

"We just want the ones who seem like they might live through the next invasion and give us strong children," Sarafina said. "We don't stay with mates long though. They get boring after awhile unless they give us children."

"Er, do your people get diseases from that?" Quark asked.

"Of course not. If someone has the flu or something, then yes."

 _Oh dear gods get me through this,_ he thought. "Hu-mons and some other races have diseases they get when they have sex with a lot of people. If you want to date one you have to be careful."

"I'm not dating Dr. Bashir," Sarafina said.

"I never suggested that!" Quark said. "I just mean hu-mons in general, and other races as well."

"You did mean Dr. Bashir," she said. "He isn't my type. I mean, he's smart and a good teacher, which my people value, but it's hard to imagine him surviving a battle. He's too soft."

Quark had seen Bashir in a fight once. He'd been in sick bay himself with a broken arm after a financial disagreement with a large human dock worker, and a delirious Bajoran freighter captain had suddenly grown violent, throwing a nurse across the ward. Before anyone else had been able to react Bashir had the man in a submission hold. Quark thought his technique was mostly good for defense, but that Bashir could be a decent opponent.

"He does seem soft," Quark said, "but that's hu-mons for you. The best of them are worth half of a good Feringee. Dr. Bashir actually seems a bit feminine, in my opinion. I doubt he could win a bar fight, much less survive a battle. He'd probably father some weak children, too."

"Honestly, Quark, you're so transparent. I don't need protecting."

"You seem to," Quark said. "You're too pretty to be dealing with the men on this station. If you haven't noticed there aren't many single women, and that makes it a competitive place, especially since we're on a major trade route near the wormhole. Most of the women who come through here don't stay long, so the men are always on the prowl."

"I told you before, I'm not a child. I've had a couple of mates already, and three children, although they didn't live long. I know how men think and what they want."

"Did you leave a mate behind?" Quark asked. "You never mentioned it."

"I'm not with anyone right now. The last guy I was with couldn't get me pregnant, so I left him. We have to have babies to survive the invasions, and I was bored with him. He was bored with me too."

Quark's view of her was shifting, but he didn't want to let go. "It's better to stay single while you're conducting business. It's less distracting."

"I see. And Dax fits into this plan where?" Sarafina asked.

"Dax would be a very profitable mate to have," Quark said, "and we would have brilliant children." _I hadn't even thought of that. Our children could own planets. Combining our brilliance and charm would be so profitable._ "I'm not looking for a mate, but if I was she would be the type of woman I would want."

He hadn't meant to talk about Dax with Sarafina, but somehow it felt right. He knew she'd use the information against him if it would get her what she wanted. What woman wouldn't? But he also knew she'd be going back to her planet when she was finished, and that she wouldn't betray him unless she really needed to. It was the closest he'd gotten too trusting a female in a long time.

"If you aren't interested in Dr. Bashir as a mate then why are you with him so much?" Quark asked.

"Because he's a wealth of information, and he wants to help me find ways to introduce modern medical techniques to my people. We desperately need that."

"So you're using him for profit?" Quark asked. "I like that. I'll make a good Feringee out of you yet."

"We're not above that sort of thing," Sarafina said. "We just have different motives for profit."

"Greed is greed," Quark said. "Why does it matter why you pursue it?"

"Because I wouldn't harm Dr. Bashir to learn what I need to," Sarafina said.

"You can't tell me that if it would profit your own people you wouldn't do him some damage," Quark said.

"I've been put in that situation before, and I've had to make some command decisions that cost people their lives. I would never do it for my own personal profit."

 _I'll have to teach her more so that she learns how to profit off people personally,_ Quark thought. "Did you get a chance to look over the Apocrypha I leant you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I scouted last night, and part of this morning. I can't believe how large this place is. There's too much potential for problems if anyone invaded this place - bottlenecks, blind spots - all sorts of places that are just ripe for ambushes. I can't understand the logic of the layout, at least not what I've seen of it."

 _I keep forgetting that she's a general,_ he thought. _Generals aren't usually pretty girls._

"It's an old station, and it passed from the Cardassians and then to the Bajorans. It was sort of a prison camp and mining base, and the Bajorans have basically forced it to be something it was never meant for. Every culture that's interacted with the station has changed things, and it's sort of cobbled together by now. I never thought much about the military aspects of it. I'm just here to make profit off the place. Someday I want to buy a moon and turn it into a casino moon palace. This place is a half-way point for everyone but the Bajorans, and even they don't seem to like it much."

"How can you not see what's around you?" Sarafina asked. "You have too many places it would be easy to attack here. Why is it your bar so open to the rest of the station? You should have a single door with a guard. You could pretend he was a welcoming host or something. I understand the mirrors. It's hard to be surprised with all the mirrors, and if you absolutely had to have an emergency weapon, broken mirror shards could be used as a knife or thrown as a distraction."

"You really don't understand how this station works," Quark said. "If I closed off the front no one would be able to see inside. I don't know what bullets are, but that glass won't even crack for anything less than a disruptor blast, and it would have to be a powerful disruptor. I've had a few patrons try to break it. A welcoming host would cost money, and I can protect my own bar."

"Yes, but can you protect Rom and Nog while you're protecting the bar?" Sarafina asked. "Rom doesn't look like he could fight."

"He's never been trained," Quark said, "but if Nog was in danger he'd be a terror."

"I think you need me to teach you a few things about defense," Sarafina said.

Quark's pride threatened to kick up, but he thought, _dignity and a sack is worth the sack._

"You could probably help me make the place safer, but I'd want to do it without being obvious. I don't want to make my customers think there's a problem. We get a few fights in here now and then, but I've always been able to break them up."

"What about when you aren't here?" Sarafina asked. "I know Rom watches the place too."

"Then there's more damage," Quark said, "and I take it out of Rom's salary for not stopping it."

"I think I should teach him to fight - Nog too."

"I like that idea," Quark said. _I can probably get her to teach them for free. It's expensive to learn skills like that without going into the military._

"I haven't forgotten why I'm here," Sarafina said. "I don't have time for much that isn't my mission, but after all you've done for me I want to repay you somehow, and at least I can help your family learn to defend themselves. I want to talk about how we're going to stop the Romulans though."

"I need to know what they want," Quark said. "If they just wanted to win a war they have a lot of ways they could just destroy the population."

"We don't know why some of their weapons won't work on our planet," she said.

"Have you ever seen any of them teleport?" Quark asked.

"What's that?"

 _I have to teach her basic engineering now,_ Quark thought. _By the time we get far enough to find out what the Romulans want we'll both be old and forgetful._

"It means that people can suddenly disappear from one place and reappear in another. If this station had teleportation I could leave here and be planet side in a few seconds. It takes a person apart down to the atoms and reassembles them."

"That sounds dangerous," Sarafina said.

"It is, if the teleporters aren't maintained properly. If this rundown place had one I wouldn't use it. I saw a teleporter accident once somewhere else. It looked like someone had turned an animal inside out."

"You were with the Romulans the last time they came," Sarafina said. "Don't you know anything?"

Quark shook his head. "We came down in a shuttle, and we were told only to use blades and bombs. They were odd bombs too. I didn't connect the facts at the time, but I know they didn't use plasma, which is what most bombs used at the time. They were entirely mechanical, or basic electrical. I didn't look at them too closely."

"Didn't you know anything about their goals?" Sarafina asked.

"They were secretive," Quark said. "There were three Feringee involved, and we were told to subdue an area in two days and then be back at the shuttle to leave. The Romulans that were with me planted the bombs and I dealt with anyone who tried to stop us. It was a fast moving operation, and I never saw them pick anything up or examine anything. It seemed like they were just focused on localized destruction."

"They were probably going to send out whoever was responsible for gathering what they wanted after the original force was recalled to the ship," Sarafina said.

"I think whatever they were looking for might be related to the reason their plasma weapons won't work there," Quark said.

"We had scientists working on that," Sarafina said. "There are some older weapons from the first time they invaded, and whenever we tried to use them a burst of energy would go out a couple of feet and dissipate. It would just be drawn into an energy user if there was one present."

"People there can absorb energy?" Quark asked.

"Some of us," Sarafina said. "It's how we fight. The Romulans can't do it."

"I don't know of anyone who can," Quark said. "I think the Romulans are probably trying to learn how you're doing it."

"We don't know what they want. They burn all the bodies before they move on. We usually only figure out who was killed by seeing who never reports themselves alive to the authorities. Sometimes we can identify the bodies, but usually only by dental records, if at all"

"So they could kidnap some people and you'd never know," Quark said.

"I don't know why," she said. "None of the survivors ever reported seeing anyone taken."

"What about you and your friends?" Quark asked.

"I think they were just being cruel," Sarafina said, "but if they were taking people away someone would have seen it."

"Unless they only took a few and the entire operation was to keep it a secret," Quark said.

"Why?" Sarafina asked. "What good did it due them to keep us from finding out what they were doing if they were kidnapping people? We could beat them back, but no matter how much we try to build up they manage to destroy almost an entire city each time."

"They were probably trying to hide their motives from us," Quark said. "We have some trade agreements with them, but if we could find out what was profitable on that planet we would have exploited it long ago. We always thought it was racial hatred, or that they were stealing minerals, and the Romulans paid us well enough to ignore whatever profit we might have gotten. It wouldn't have been worth fighting with good customers."

"Then we need to find out how our physiology is different from others outside our planet," she said. "It seems to happen at least once a generation. Sometimes more."

"When their captives die, I'd wager," Quark said.

"Probably. We'll have to go to Bajor though," Sarafina said, "and we'll need to keep it low-key. That Odo has been watching me."

"He would do that," Quark said. "He thinks anyone who knows me is a criminal."

"Are you a criminal?" Sarafina asked.

Her eyes were cool and distant, and Quark wondered what she would do if he said yes, but he decided to play it safe and tell her a partial truth. "I break some of their laws, but none of Feringar, unless you count something I did on a planet that involved killing a few Romulans and helping a child I should have, by law, let die."

"Point taken," she said. "I don't like that Odo."

"You have to be careful around him," Quark said. "He can shape shift, and he likes to eavesdrop."

"He's a shape shifter?" she asked. "I've never heard of that."

"His natural state is goo," Quark said. "It's disgusting. I used to have much nicer quarters, but then he moved in over me, and I had to move because of the noise. When he wasn't practicing being a huge animal he was skittering around like a mouse, or oozing back and forth across the floor. It was horrible."

"I knew I didn't like that guy," Sarafina said. "We have lawmen on my planet, but they don't act like him, always slinking around like that. I thought he was sneaky before I knew about this, but now I think I'd rather not ever have to deal with him."

"You and me both," Quark said, "but I have to more often than I would like. Just make sure you don't give him any information. He knows why you're here, but he doesn't know much about us, and I'd like to keep it that way. If he knew everything he'd probably call the Nagus or something. It would fit his warped idea of justice."

"What is your idea of justice?" Sarafina asked.

"There are rules as to who we can kill, and how we can cheat someone," Quark said. "We can't do anything that would hurt the race, like sell information to the enemy. That's considered treason. We have our roles in society. Priests can't make profit unless it's by bribes; bribes are holy. Jailors won't accept bribes for certain crimes, and no one that I know would hurt a child for profit. There are Feringee who would, but I've never met them. "

"And you?" she asked. "How far would you go for profit?"

"I let Nog end up in jail once rather than get caught, but I paid his bail, and since he was so young it wasn't even counted against him. Commander Sisko managed to use that to blackmail me. That hu-mon has potential, but he refuses to realize it. The Bajorans are a bad influence on him."

"And women?" she asked."You have a lot of laws about women, and I think they're barbaric. Women die on our planet as often as men, and we have to be as wily and able to survive as any man."

"Our women don't have to worry about how they live, they don't have to fear anything, and all they have to do is be happy at home," Quark said. "We have very little divorce, and everyone knows their place. I send my mother a generous stipend; she never wants for anything."

"But what if they don't want that place?" she asked.

Quark thought of his mother. "Then they cause their family a lot of grief."


	5. Chapter 5

Ch 5

After her shift Dax was bored, but that wasn't unusual. The station provided challenges some days, but when everything ran smoothly she itched for some entertainment, and Quark's was the best place for that at the moment. She'd lived so long and she'd seen the same routines so many times she had become a novelty seeker - always looking for something new and exciting, and lately Quark had been acting unexpectedly.

She wore a simple black dress that showed off her figure nicely. As she turned in front of the mirror and ran a hand over her hip she was glad she hadn't ended up in another male body. Being female was so much more fun sometimes.

Quark was waiting for her outside the restaurant, and she thought he'd never looked so arrogant. _He's nervous,_ she thought. _How adorable._ The more nervous a Feringee felt, the more confident they appeared to the world. Of course, when they were confident they seemed the same way, but she'd known Quark long enough to know the difference, from the tension in his unusually straight posture to the slight twitch of a muscle above his temple. He smiled when he saw her, and she noticed that he'd freshly sharpened his teeth.

A Klingon with what Quark thought was a typically sour face seated them in a corner booth and walked away, leaving Quark time to look around and wonder exactly what he'd gotten himself into. It was nothing like his bar, or any restaurant he'd ever been in. While he and Rom had carefully chosen every decoration and aspect of their bar to create a specific atmosphere, the restaurant had kept the basic structure of the station with very little attempt to hide the support beams or dark gray, time worn walls. Everything seemed to be sharp edges and aggressively simplistic style. It looked so utilitarian it was almost industrial, but the effect was broken by the placement of what Quark assumed had been animals on the walls. He wasn't sure about one of them. It looked like a lump of meat with spider legs sticking out - 5 foot long spider legs. A Klingon coat of arms - he had no idea from which house, and he didn't care - was prominently displayed where every guest saw it when they came in.

He didn't like the place. There was nothing about it that suggested elegance or style, and he'd found that seemed to get more money out of customers, got them to buy pricier drinks. He did know that a lot of races were fascinated with Klingon culture, which he attributed the place's popularity to. It was crowded, mostly with Klingons, but also with a good number of humans. He was the only Feringee.

 _I'm probably the only Feringee to ever eat Klingon food voluntarily,_ he thought. They were a dirty, loud people who didn't frequent his bar very often or make him money, so he'd never been very interested in them. Some of them even claimed to be uninterested in money. He shuddered at the thought.

When their waiter arrived he looked at Quark with disdain. He was so tall he had to bend down to look him in the eye properly. "Does _sir_ need a booster seat? You'll want a _menu_ I guess," he said, sneering in a way that suggested a menu was an insult, although Quark didn't know why it would be.

"No," he said. "I know exactly what I want." He didn't suggest that Dax order first, even though he knew almost nothing about Klingon food. "I'll have the _racht_ with a glass of the house wine."

Dax was smiling in a way that made him wonder if he'd made a mistake. Her humor ran towards slightly cruel at times, something he found attractive, but not when it was pointed in his direction.

The waiter leaned toward Quark and studied him for a few long seconds. Quark held his gaze, deciding if he was going to be challenged by a waiter he wasn't going to lose, even if he was a Klingon.

"What sort of Feringee orders _racht_?" the waiter asked.

"One that likes _racht,_ " Quark snapped, showing his teeth a bit in a way he knew Klingons would find suitably aggressive, but not so aggressive as to require some sort of honor battle, or so he hoped. _Klingons are so unstable,_ he thought.

The waiter suddenly stood up and thumped Quark on the back, hard. "Hey everyone, he just ordered _racht_ and house wine!" A couple of Klingons actually raised their glass to Quark and yelled something in their raspy language, which the station translator didn't change. _I am in so much trouble,_ Quark thought.

The waiter gripped Quark's shoulder and shook it roughly. "I like you little man! _Racht_ and house wine it is!"

"I'll have the same," Dax said, "but be sure to tell the cook that I like my _racht_ to put up some fight."

 _Put up some fight?_ Quark wondered. _Did I just order something alive? I should have looked up racht before I came here._

After the waiter left Quark heard a hearty laugh from the back. _I'm going to get in a fight over food,_ he thought with a sinking feeling. _If I can't eat the food or drink the wine they'll take it as an insult._

Dax leaned closer to him, and he thought those soft lips looked kissably close. She wasn't attractive by Feringee standards, with her small ears and smooth skin, but he'd never been attracted to women who were conventionally beautiful. Instead he preferred the exotic, odd-looking women he'd met after he'd left home. There were very few Feringee who could appreciate a non-Feringee woman's beauty, and he was one of them.

Dax was a scheming, greedy woman in her own way, and he could love her for it given the chance. She thought of herself as the type of person who would do much that was selfless in the name of justice and friendship, but didn't she make friends with profitable people? Sisko, who was in charge of DS9, Kira, who held a power of personality that drove people to do her bidding even more than her rank did. Odo...

 _Well, no one's perfect,_ he thought. _Even she can't pick well all the time._

Her smile as she leaned toward him made his heart jump.

"Quark?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?" he said, knowing that whatever she said next would be something he'd remember the rest of his life.

"I know you've never eaten _racht,_ " she whispered.

"I..." he started."How did you know?"

She took one of her hands in both of hers, her delicate fingers wrapping around his hand and his blue nails a sharp contrast to her pale skin.

"Your index finger twitches when you're nervous," she said.

"That's how you keep beating me at Tongo!" Quark said.

Dax patted his hand and smirked. "I beat you at Tongo because I'm better at it than you are."

The moment was lost, but he was sure they'd have another. Women loved him, and he had no doubt Dax would love him in time.

"I've never _actually_ eaten it," Quark said, thinking quickly, "but I've eaten it in spirit. I always love new cuisine. I've considered serving some at the bar. We do get Klingons in there occasionally, and I'm sure they'd love it. They don't come in often."

"I'm sure they would," Dax said. "Have you drunk blood wine in spirit too?"

"We both ordered house wine," Quark said. "I can't imagine how vile blood wine must be."

"You're about to find out," Dax said. "The Klingon words for "house" – or clan - and "blood" are the same. Each house has its own wine."

"Is there actually blood in it?" Quark asked.

"Do you really want to know?" Dax asked.

"No," Quark said. "I don't think I do."

"It's very strong," Dax said, "not many non-Klingons can drink it, and you can't ask for water or you'll insult them."

"I can hold my alcohol," Quark said. "I drank Chief O'Brien under the table once."

Dax raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I gave him whiskey and switched mine to synthale while he wasn't looking."

"I wish I could have seen that," she said.

"He's been sore at me ever since," Quark said. "He keeps calling me _barkeep,_ like I'm some common swill peddler."

The racht arrived in a large plate, squirming and very much alive. The waiter didn't serve it so much as almost drop it on the table, and a worm slipped off the plate.

Dax took it between two fingers, held her head up and let it drop into her mouth. Quark followed suit, and since he'd noticed that Dax didn't chew he swallowed his whole as she had.

The flavor surprised him almost as much as the squirming had, and he ate another. "This is amazing!" he said.

"Ha!" the waiter bellowed. "We had a bet in the back if you could handle it! You are indeed a Feringee to watch! I will be back with your house wine!"

In the surprise of finding Klingon food palatable he'd forgotten about the wine, but he allowed himself to enjoy a few more of the worms.

"I've never seen anyone but a Klingon like _racht_ or _gaght_ the first time," she said. "A lot of them don't really care for the taste so much as the wriggling sensation."

"It's like tube worms, but with more seasoning," Quark said. "How did I not know this exists? I'm going to have to serve it in the bar. They taste like they were marinated with something bitter, and it's just enough to complement the sour flavor. It reminds me of Mother's cooking."

"I forgot that Feringee like insects," Dax said. "I suppose you are used to unusual cuisine. They're difficult to keep alive," Dax said, "so I don't know if they'd make for good bar snacks."

Quark's mind was already spinning with ways to sell the food to his people. "I could corner the market," Quark said. "I doubt any other Feringee has ever tried this before."

The waiter brought two large silver chalices, decorated with embossed depictions of targs killing various types of prey. Dax brought the bright red liquid to her lips, staining them slightly redder than usual. Quark did the same, expecting the copper tang of blood, but instead he was met with a strong cinnamon flavor with distinct metal notes. He disliked cinnamon, but he decided it could have been much worse. He hadn't expected it to be warm, but that was less objectionable than the taste.

The waiter was still standing near them, watching expectantly, and Quark knew he had better say the right thing. And it would give him time to adjust to the taste before he had to take another drink.

"What is that wonderful spice?" he asked. "It's so pungent, and the wine coats the tongue perfectly."

"He likes the house wine!" the waiter announced to the room, followed by various Klingons raising their chalices and yelling loudly. They began to sing, putting their hands on the shoulders of their neighbors and swaying while they held their drinks aloft.

Only one Klingon didn't join the celebration. A young male in a Starfleet uniform, of all things, and Quark wondered how long it would be before Odo had him up on charges for whatever Starfleet officer he had killed to take the uniform. He sat in the corner, his back rigid and his face showing the typical Klingon scowl that could mean anything or nothing. He was sitting opposite them, and Quark saw that he was looking directly at Dax with an unblinking stare.

Quark resisted the urge to flash his teeth at the Klingon. _I doubt getting mauled by a Klingon would impress Dax,_ he thought.

He took a long drag of the wine, and it seemed more palatable the second time. An aftertaste of some sour fruit followed that wasn't displeasing.

The waiter made his way around the tables, putting his arm around the singers and joining them happily.

Dax had to lean toward Quark again so she could be heard over the raucous celebration. "The humans have a saying that you could sell ice to an Eskimo. I think it applies to you."

Quark was beginning to feel warm, and the worm quivering in his stomach was an oddly pleasant feeling.  
"What's an Eskimo?" he asked.

"A human that lives in a permanently frozen part of their world."

"That's the nicest thing anyone ever said to me." Quark took another long drink. "The more I drink the better it tastes," he said.

"You'd better slow down," she said. "Your face is getting darker under the eyes. I know what that means."

Quark knew the truth in her warning, and he sat the chalice down.

Dax looked around them and shook her head. "Only a Feringee could pull that off," she said. "I don't know how you managed to charm a room full of Klingons, but I'm glad I got to see it."

She saw the Klingon in the Starfleet uniform. "What an odd man."

"Yeah," Quark said. "I've seen him before somewhere. He must have killed someone and taken that uniform. Odo will probably get him before the night is over."

"Probably," Dax said. She turned back to their dinner.

The cook came out a few minutes later with his arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture. "Where is he?" he yelled. "Where is the Feringee who eats like a Klingon and drinks like a man who loves wine?"

Quark raised his glass. "NanDi! Neep-gren!" he slurred. _This is too strong._

"He is too drunk for the translator to know his speech!" the cook said happily.

Quark took a drink again.

"He said, "it's excellent. Thank you," Dax said.

The cook fetched a lute from the back and returned to their table, where he began to play a lively Klingon song. Quark didn't know any Klingon, so he ate and drank happily, and when the waiter brought him more wine he began on his second chalice quickly. Dax sang with the cook, her voice as beautiful as the cook's was hoarse and bawdy.

After the cook went to the back, the singing died to a duller celebration, and Quark focused on Dax again. Her cheeks had that reddish look that many humanoids got when excited or were drinking, and her eyes absolutely sparkled.

"There are 178 different words for rain on my planet," Quark said, "and none for how beautiful you are."

"Ok. It's time to get you home," Dax said.

After he had paid Quark stood up, and the room tilted, but he managed to stay on his feet by grabbing onto the back of his chair. "That wine sneaks up on a man," he said.

The waiter caught him before he could even begin to leave and hugged him tightly, crushing Quark's head to his chest. "Come back to us, little Feringee! We want to watch you drink again! Very few non-Klingons will even attempt our house wine, and I've never seen one on his feet after two."

Quark managed to extricate himself from the Klingon and step back. "I'll do that," he said. "You people are truly hospitable." He could hear his voice slurring badly. "I think I should go while I can still walk."

The waiter roared with laughter, and as Quark turned to leave he thumped him on his back in a friendly way, so hard that Quark stumbled and would have fallen if the Klingon in the Starfleet uniform hadn't caught him and held him upright for a second. He hadn't even seen when the Klingon moved toward him.

"I do not share your enthusiasm for this man," the Klingon said to the waiter. "Feringees are a dishonorable, greedy race."

"Damn right we are!" Quark said happily, the wine cloud in his mind obscuring the danger that the Klingon radiated. "Shall we go?" he asked Dax.

Dax stood, but she was looking at the Klingon. "I am Worf, son of Morg," he said. "If this... _man_ gives you trouble let me know."

"Thank you," Dax said, "but he's a good friend. I can protect myself anyway."

"I'm sure you can," Worf said. "You have the bearing of a warrior."

"Yeah," Quark said. "Never make a Trill angry. There's no profit in it." He flashed his teeth at Worf in an aggressive manner.

"You are drunk and very small," Worf said, "and an unworthy opponent, so I won't accept your challenge."

Dax put her hands on Quark's shoulders and physically turned him toward the door. "Time to go now," she said. As they left she glanced backwards at the stern Klingon and smiled.

"Come on," she said to Quark. "I'll walk with you to your quarters."

Quark tried to muster all of his willpower to walk straight, wanting to preserve some dignity, but he found himself weaving a bit, and Dax held his elbow to guide him. The restaurant wasn't far from his quarters, but it felt like it was a million miles away.

Dax chatted happily next to him, but he was so focused on walking that he didn't hear most of what she said. When they got to the bar, Rom stopped chatting with the new Bajoran Dabo girl and watched them. "What happened?" he asked.

"A little too much blood wine," Dax said.

"You drank blood wine?" the Dabo girl asked, wide eyed. Her squeaky voice landed on his sensitive ears like a punch.

"I did, and I think I might do it again," Quark said. "Odd taste at first, but it grows on you."

"It looks like it grew on you too much," Rom said.

Dax pushed him gently toward the back of his bar and his quarters, and when they reached the door he turned to her. "You are as radiant as an ocean of latinum, as light as our skies are dark."

She bent and kissed him on the forehead, and then she ran a finger around the perimeter of his ear. "That was more fun than I've had in ages. Goodnight, Quark."


	6. Chapter 6

Ch 6

There were few things Quark respected about humans, and only one that he envied. He had heard numerous stories about humans forgetting what happened when they were drunk. When he woke the next morning with a first class hangover he wished he could forget most of what had happened - the part where he had made a fool of himself in a Klingon restaurant, not the part with Dax. Unfortunately Feringee remember everything when they are drunk, in vivid detail.

He came out and went straight to the bar. It was early, so early that only Rom was there, preparing for the day.

Quark grabbed an ice cube and ate it, wincing as the loud crunch bothered his hangover-sensitive ears, but hoping the old Feringee hangover cure worked. If nothing else it would help him rehydrate.

"What happened last night?" Rom asked. "Did I really see Dax kiss you and start to give you Oo-Mox?"

"That's one hell of a woman," Quark said, digging into the fridge under the bar where they kept the fruit that humans liked in their drinks. It was a waste of good alcohol in his opinion, but right now he just wanted something sweet, bitter, and strong to get the sour taste of hangover out of his mouth.

"Where did you go?" Rom asked.

"We went to the Klingon restaurant," Quark said.

"Eww," Rom said. "You ate Klingon food?"

"It was pretty good," Quark said. "The wine was strange, but by the time I'd drunk a whole chalice full it started to taste good. They drink wine out of chalices instead of glasses. Not something I'd want again mind you. We have to see if we can get in some of that _racht._ "

"What's that Brother?" Rom asked.

"Live worms that taste like tube grubs, but better," Quark said. "If we can get people past the live part they would be a great addition to the menu."

He sat down and groaned. "This is why synthol was invented."

Quark bit into the orange without peeling it, savoring the bitter and sweet flavors as they blended in his mouth.

"I have no idea why humans would ruin good vodka with those," Quark said, "but they make a good hangover remedy."

Rom wrinkled his nose. "I don't know where you get your taste for alien foods and women."

"I noticed you and the new Dabo girl seemed friendly. She's Bajoran," Quark said.

"I like her," Rom said. "She isn't very pretty, but she's nice to Nog, and she's really smart."

"Most of them think Nog is "cute". You should make use of that before he hits the gangly years."

Rom grinned, his uneven teeth making Quark smile as usual.

"Have you seen Sarafina?" Quark asked. "I need to get her trained before she gets taken advantage of by some con man."

"Trained?" Rom asked.

"Yes. She's so naive about off-worlders that I need to teach her enough about the universe for her to protect herself. It's worse because she thinks she already knows enough."

"I think she can handle herself more than you know," Rom said.

"Why?" Quark asked, suddenly completely focused despite his pounding headache and still dry mouth. "What happened to her?"

"She was in here after you went to bed," Rom said, "and a few of the dock workers decided to get fresh with her."

"You're supposed to keep the women from getting harassed," Quark said. "It's bad for business. Anything shady needs to be kept in the back or after hours. It keeps Odo off my back."

"She handled it herself," Rom said. "One of them grabbed her arm after she rejected him, and she twisted his arm around and put a thumb just under his elbow and pressed. He practically begged her to let him go."

"That sounds about right," Quark said. "I knew she can fight. I'm more concerned about the type who would try more subtly to take advantage of her, like Feringee or hu-mons."

"She did something weird though," Rom said. "She flipped him around and had him bent over the table, and then while she held him down by pressing on that pressure point she touched one of his friends on the head, and..."

Quark waited, watching the familiar look of confusion on Rom's face. "And then what?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," Rom said. "She did something, but I don't know what. I saw what looked like a bright spark on the man she touched, and he passed out for a few seconds. Then I saw the same spark on the man she was holding down, and he yelled. Then she let him go and told him to get lost. They ran out without paying their bill."

Quark grumbled. "Just what we need, a female bouncer that sends the patrons out without paying."

"She was just defending herself," Rom said.

"I know," Quark said. "It's better than Morn slamming a chair over someone's head or something. The last time he did that Odo wanted to fine _me._ "

"Yeah," Rom said. "Morn hates seeing women bothered."

"Then what happened?" Quark asked.

"You aren't going to like this," Rom said.

Quark waited for Rom to continue, growing impatient. "Are you going to tell me or not?" he snapped.

"We talked for a bit and then Dr. Bashir came in. Apparently they had arranged to meet here, and then they ate here and left. He was really laying it on too. I eavesdropped," Rom said, grinning as he always did when he did the least little thing sneaky.

"She said he isn't his type," Quark said, "but I think he might be."

"If you don't want her why do you care?" Rom asked.

"I just like to keep better track of my investments," Quark said.

"Odo likes to keep track of your investments too," Rom said.

"Don't tell me he was around here too," Quark said.

"There was a new bench out there," Rom said, pointing to a sitting area near the bar. "I noticed it, and then I saw that it was gone after they left together."

"I knew he was lying about being able to shift. You never saw Odo though?" Quark asked.

"No, but anytime I see random objects appear and disappear I just assume it might be Odo," Rom said.

"Good idea," Quark said. "I was right! He could still shape shift - the crafty devil. I really don't want to deal with him. If he finds out what I'm trying to do he'll probably tell Sisko, and I'll lose my advantage. I need to find out what she did to that drunk last night. I have an idea it might be the answer to a mystery that's been plaguing two different races and caused numerous wars."

"What?" Rom asked.

Quark had been musing, talking as much to himself as to Rom, and he pulled himself out of his reverie. "Never mind. I can't do anything else until I can talk to her, and I need to catch up on things around here. If I run around all over the station it will draw too much attention."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Odo knew all the places around the ship where he could hide and view the goings-on undisturbed. He currently sat outside the medical bay looking for all the world like an instrument panel. He never could sneak into the medical bay without getting caught as the sensors would recognize him as a life form. He didn't like to do that anyway. He stretched the letter of the law often to protect his charges on DS9, but there were lines he didn't like to cross, and intruding into people's medical problems was one of them.

At the moment he was waiting for Sarafina to leave the medical bay, glad that he could finally change shape again.

 _That innocent face doesn't fool me,_ he thought. _Dr. Bashir is a sucker for a nice figure, though, and I'll bet she's pumping him for information. He knows too much for me to let one of Quark's little pet projects get her fingers into his soul._

It bothered him that he couldn't get the information out of Quark, especially since he'd been on the planet, and sometimes in the same room with them when their scheme was conceived. He knew that she was close to Quark and seemed to feel that she owed him something, and that also concerned Odo. There was a secret they were keeping, and that never meant anything legal in his experience.

And she was contradictory. For someone who was a general on her own planet she seemed peaceful on DS9, deceptively peaceful in his opinion.

She left the medical bay alone and walked casually away with a smirk that Odo didn't like. He wondered if she was gathering information from Dr. Bashir for Quark or herself.

He resumed his humanoid shape and followed her cautiously, and he thought that he remained undetected, but as he turned a corner she was gone.

His irritation with Quark was reaching new heights lately. It always did when Quark involved a woman. Odo's idea of womanhood was a strong, independent woman who chose a strong, moral view of the universe. Quark seemed to muddle the equation, and Odo never knew what to expect with him, but one thing was sure, if Quark was involved with a woman she was anything but innocent. His women were always on the edge of legality, and generally in the middle of a scheme of his.

And this Sarafina...

Odo fumed, and the more logical part of him suggested that he was so concerned about her actions because of his humiliation on her planet. The memory still rankled. He had been Odo, Chief of Security for DS9 for so long that he'd all but forgotten what it meant to be the changeling freak, and on her planet he'd been reminded. They hadn't known him any more than they'd known Quark, but they'd reacted against him instinctively, as if they somehow knew what he was - as so many people he'd never met knew him, or his people - which was the same to them. Sarafina let him rot in jail while she pampered Quark.

If anything bothered him the most about his time on her planet, it was that he was no better than a criminal to them. He'd always obeyed the law, and often enforced it. He'd stretched it occasionally, but only in the name of justice, and always to help an innocent party or punish a criminal. He'd never once placed his own needs above the needs of others, and all it earned him was a few nights in jail on an unfamiliar planet as if he was a common criminal.

It reminded him of the times he was poked and prodded as a scientific experiment, trying desperately to decipher how to contract the beings around him and let them know he was alive. The panic he'd felt in the cell when they'd separated him from Quark - the only sentient being on the entire planet that he knew - was only mitigated by the tortured moans that occasionally came from his Romulan cellmate. Quark's little friend was from a barbaric race; he'd decided that much. The only reason it didn't bother Quark was that in Odo's opinion Feringee were barbarians with nice clothes.

Odo didn't have the hatred for Romulans that the Federation had. They were his enemies by way of other alliances, but he respected their passion for duty, their loyalty and dedication to put the needs of their government and race above their own.

So he wasn't happy to see a strong warrior reduced to a shattered shell of a man. He'd tried to communicate with his cellmate, to see what information he could get out of him, but after a few ineffectual questions he realized the traumatized man wasn't even fully conscious.

A more advanced race would have left fewer marks. It was one of the oddities of technology that the most invasive tortures a technological torture session would leave would be a few small pricks from a hypospray. Anything more was for pleasure, not practicality.

The Romulan had remained curled against the wall in a far corner, blinking against the occasional light and finally recognizing that Odo was someone besides his tormentors.

"You, you're not one of them," he had said. Odo had waited for more, but that had apparently taken all of his befuddled mental resources.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Odo said. "I'm their prisoner too."

The Romulan nodded, but Odo saw by the wide, blank look that he probably didn't understand much of what was happening around him.

He had been holding his left arm across his chest, and when he moved it Odo saw his open uniform shirt fall away and reveal a large bandage, which blood was seeping through. His pant leg was torn, and most of his calf was bandaged. Whoever had treated him probably wasn't responsible for him now, because Odo had seen enough bandages to recognize a quality job. The leg and chest had been well-treated, but the wounds had obviously been neglected after that.

"What's your name?" Odo asked. Despite what many people thought, being a changeling didn't remove his need for personal contact; if anything it increased it. He was always alone, separated from his own people, and now he was separated from even the other races that interacted with him. The Romulan was the only being he could connect with, and he was almost a shell of a man.

Several minutes passed, and Odo had given up on communication. He had begun to search the cell for any means of escape, but without a tool he could have only chosen to dig ineffectually with his hands for days.

"S'Tokkr," he heard softly behind him.

Odo turned and saw the Romulan watching him. He was young - very young, an older child perhaps. Odo knew very little about Romulans, but he knew that S'Tokkr would be a first name, something informal and not the more formal family name he would have expected.

S'Tokkr seemed to be focusing on him, if still dazed. Odo crouched by him, and to his credit S'Tokkr didn't recoil when Odo leaned forward.

"I'm Odo," he said. "I'm no danger to you. I'm not sure why I'm here, but I'm guessing you know why they brought you here."

The Romulan nodded. "I won't tell them anything, no matter what they do to me. I know my duty."

"I'm sure you do," Odo said sadly. He knew that Romulans didn't seem to know the difference between strong and stubborn, and this one would almost certainly die because of it. Odo was sure they'd already been at him, because of the swollen face and tell-tale bruises from at least one beating. His right eye was swollen shut, and his cheek was split and covered with dark dried blood. His lip had been split as well, and when he'd spoken to Odo it had begun to bleed slightly.

He held his arm against his chest in a way that suggested it had been injured as well, and Odo could see a bump under the skin of his lower arm that suggested a broken bone.

"They worked you over pretty good, didn't they?" Odo asked.

"I have earned my place in the Halls of Erebus," S'Tokkr said, "and I won't give it up by betraying my people."

Pity filled Odo for the boy who would never know anything past this cell. "It takes a strong man to survive interrogation without betraying his people. How did you end up here?" Odo asked.

"Very clever," S'Tokkr muttered, and his eyes became suspicious. "I won't fall for such an obvious trick."

Odo tried unsuccessfully to reassure him, but S'Tokkr was finished talking to him.

A few hours later Odo began to feel the pressure building in his core, and he knew that he had a limited amount of time before he'd have to release himself and rest. _Why now of all times?_ he wondered. _This is the worst possible time to start getting my shape shifting abilities back._ He tried to shift to a mouse, something small enough to avoid notice, but he couldn't change, no matter how hard he tried.

He tried to wait until S'Tokkr slept, but the man seemed bent on staying awake. Even wounded Romulans had more stamina than many races, and as much as Odo wished he would pass out, S'Tokkr was awake and watching him.

The time came when Odo would have to make a decision before his features started to slip and liquefy in spite of his will.

"S'Tokkr," he said, and the young man's head whipped around toward him. "Something is about to happen to me, and I want you to know so it doesn't frighten you."

"I'm not a child," S'Tokkr said. "I don't "frighten" like a child, either."

"My people change occasionally, and it can be startling to other races," Odo said. "I want you to remember that I mean you no harm."

S'Tokkr grunted, his face an unreadable, hard mask, and when Odo had to let himself go he did it with an anxious fear that he wouldn't see another day. He usually enjoyed the sensations associated with resting. He didn't' see so much as experience his surroundings. It was close to what humans called meditation, and the free, visceral sensations accompanying his natural shape were one of the best parts of his day.

Today was torture. When he had changed shape around Quark the night before he had slunk behind the unconscious Feringee after he slipped out of his body, sure that no one would think to look in the corner under the bunk to determine what a small puddle of liquid might be. Tonight though he kept wondering if the Romulan would attack him, or if someone else would come in - some guard that might decide to clean up or something. The last was unlikely, but he couldn't rule out anything in such an unwelcome and chaotic scenario.

He resumed shape as soon as he could, and he saw S'Tokkr staring at him, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"What are you?" he whispered.

"A changeling," Odo said. "It's just something I have to do occasionally."

S'Tokkr seemed fully conscious, and Odo thought that they must have left him alone, but he was lying down facing Odo. Something about the way he moved suggested weakness, and Odo noticed that the food plate near him was mostly untouched.

"You haven't eaten," Odo said.

"It doesn't matter," S'Tokkr said. "My time is near."

"Don't give up," Odo said. "There's still hope."

S'Tokkr rolled over so that he lay on his side and his injured leg was visible. He pulled back the dirty, stained bandage, and the smell of rot hit Odo as he saw the blackened, gangrenous wound underneath.

"Hope is for the living. I accept death," S'Tokkr said. "It's good to have someone here with me, but I won't fight my own fate. I was captured while I was fighting, and I kept some of my comrades alive by being the last one holding the hill after most of them were dead, so I'm free of guilt. I won't degrade myself by asking my captors for aid."

It was day, and a diffused light came from somewhere - not enough to be comfortable, but enough that Odo could see as he looked down the long hallways that there was no one to call.

"Guard!" he bellowed. A few distant laughs and one angry prisoner yelling for him to shut up were all that he heard.

"I told you I don't want their help!" S'Tokkr said.

Odo crouched by the dying man. It hurt him to see those eyes that should see a full life. He knew that the man probably had a day or two, possibly more given Romulan strength, but almost certainly a short time full of pain and loss.

"The Romulan way is loyalty and strength," Odo said. "My way is justice, and a wounded man left unattended isn't just."

S'Tokkr smiled wryly and shook his head. "Respect my wishes, Odo. I only wish I could have known you before this wretched place. You are a man a Romulan could befriend."

"And you are a man I could befriend as well," Odo said.

Over the next day Odo watched S'Tokkr weaken slowly, and every time a guard came in the hall for some reason he wanted to try to shout above the screaming crowd into the cells and beg for help for his ailing cellmate. He restrained himself though, and he forced himself to honor S'Tokkr's wishes. When the food and water arrived from the wall alcove, Odo brought it to S'Tokkr, who drank greedily but refused food. Odo put it back into the alcove before it closed, and as he hoped a guard came to their cell after the alcove closed.

 _So they are watching enough to know when a prisoner doesn't eat._

The guard stopped outside the door. "Why aren't you two eating?" he asked.

"I don't need your type of food," Odo said, "and he's too ill to eat."

"Odo, no," S'Tokkr said quietly.

"Get back against the corner," the guard said to Odo, pointing to the corner away from S'Tokkr. He entered the cell, and while he kept S'Tokkr in sight he cuffed Odo' s hands behind him.

"Stay there," he said to Odo. "If you move toward me he dies."

"Be still," he said to S'Tokkr as he knelt by him. He sniffed. "I know the smell of gangrene. I'll have a doctor come down here."

"I need none of your doctors!" S'Tokkr said, and he spat at the guard.

"Then I'll send none!" the guard said, and he stood to leave. He untied Odo and left.

After Odo saw him lock the door and turn he yelled,"wait!"

"What now?" the guard asked.

"How can you just leave him like this?" Odo asked. "He's dying."

"Then let him die," the guard said. "I offered him medical aid. He refused."

"How can you be so barbaric?" Odo asked.

"Our doctors are helping the injured civilians right now, and they're trying to get those who can fight back out on the front lines. I'm not going to waste one of our doctor's precious time for an enemy who is going to die and doesn't even want our help."

"He's out of his mind," Odo said. "An injured man can't think clearly. You must know that."

"Bah," the guard said, waving his hand dismissively as he left.

Again the other prisoners all tried to get the guard's attention at once, causing such a commotion that none of them could be clearly heard. When the door closed the familiar weeping and other sounds of despair and rage surrounded Odo.

He sat by S'Tokkr so that the man would have at least one friend near him when he died. He didn't know why, but no matter how long he lived, Odo had never become desensitized to the plight of a dying man, and he hated the idea of someone dying alone. It reminded him too much of the time before he was recognized as a sentient being, and he thought that must be what death would feel like.

"Thank you Odo," S'Tokkr said. "You're not a bad guy. It's too bad you weren't born Romulan."

When Odo rested that night he wondered if S'Tokkr would be dead when he resumed his humanoid shape. The smell in the cell was stronger when he changed back, and S'Tokkr was either unconscious or dead. Odo could see his chest rising and falling slowly, and he sat quietly, watching S'Tokkr and trying to decide how to proceed.

Two hours later he noticed a change in the cell, and he perked up. S'Tokkr's breathing had changed and slowed, and Odo watched as he quit breathing. He didn't attempt CPR. He didn't even know if it would work on a Romulan, but he didn't think S'Tokkr would want him to try.

He didn't know exactly when death happened, but he felt the loss of a sympathetic being.

No one came for the body, and Odo really had no idea how long he was in the cell before he was removed to a better place. When the guard came for him Odo told him S'Tokkr was dead.

"I thought the smell was worse than usual," the guard said. He didn't answer any questions Odo had, and he roughly passed him on to other guards.

Odo's stay on the planet grew more tolerable after that, but he never allowed himself to relax. He never said anything to Quark or anyone else about S'Tokkr, but he remembered. He remembered and he watched. He knew that he shouldn't judge an entire race by the actions of a few people, but the memory was raw and fresh, and Sarafina was a mystery he'd rather have off his station.

He wanted to put off his breakfast with Kira, but she would be suspicious if he did. He never missed one of their unofficial dates if he could help it, and he didn't want to worry her.

She was already sitting in the cafe when he arrived, and as soon as they made eye contact he knew she was on to him. Her eyes managed to be kind and sharp at the same time, and it was one of the things that fascinated him. She would have been a horrible detective; every emotion showed plainly on her face. But in his opinion it made her an easy companion. He saw the worst of society at times, and he never worried about Kira betraying him. It would be as foreign to her as crime was to him.

"What's bothering you?" she asked. She took a sip of her Ractajino, keeping eye contact with him over the mug.

"I can't fool you, can I?" Odo asked.

"I don't know why you'd even try," Kira said. "I know you too well." She smiled, and her nose ridges crinkled slightly in a way that Odo had always thought was adorable.

"It's nothing," he said. "I'm just having problems with Quark, as usual."

"With Quark, or with his new friend?" Kira asked.

"How did you know?"

"You don't gossip," Kira said. "You gather information, but you never indulge yourself in empty chatter, and she's the talk of the station."

"Why?" Odo asked. "What is she a part of?"

"I don't know if she's a part of anything, but she came back with you and Quark, and she's been with him and Julian ever since. People are talking about a torrid love triangle, or that she's one of Quark's marks, or one of his accomplices."

"The latter is most likely," Odo grumbled.

"Well, having a mysterious, pretty woman around the station has made the chatter more interesting. Quark probably has no idea that his patrons are betting on what kind of relationship he has with her, or that their taking good odds on her cutting it off within a month and dating Julian. The best odds are on Quark and Julian coming to violence over it."

"He has a classy clientele," Odo said. "Humph."

"Oh, don't be sour," Kira said. "It's funny."

"I don't know why you frequent that place," Odo said. "You're so much better than that."

"Odo, don't put me up on a pedestal. I'll fall down. I enjoy some foolishness now and then."

It didn't fit his picture that he had of her in his mind, but most Bajorans enjoyed a bit of foolishness now and then. It was a relief from the torturous seriousness of their lives during and after the war. He wished he could have known them before the Cardassians raped their culture, when they were a peaceful, artistic race known for their philosophical and religious depth of character.

"What did happen out there?" Kira asked. "I asked Quark, but he was evasive."

"He's good at that," Odo said.

"Yes, but I'm not used to you being evasive too. It isn't all that unusual for Quark to get injured; he makes a lot of enemies, but you had Commander Sisko tied up in knots. You're never late unless something extreme happens. I haven't seen you much lately, or I would have asked earlier."

"It was the wormhole again," Odo said. "I was trying to catch Quark at one of his schemes, and I managed to get into his shuttle before he left. I came out of hiding after he'd disembarked, and just as I was about to interrogate him the shuttle left the wormhole in the wrong place. We ended up on a dismal little planet near Ferenginar."

"That's the third time that people have had those sorts of problems," Kira said. "If it's becoming unstable we'll have more problems than we'll know what to do with."

"The other two times ended up being interference from the prophets," Odo said, even though he thought the words _wormhole aliens_ more appropriate. He showed respect for the Bajorans beliefs, but he'd never thought of "the prophets" as much more than Bajoran themselves - just Bajorans who had ascended to an energy state in his opinion.

"Then we can hope that's what's happening now," Kira said.

"But why?" Odo asked. "They've never shown any interest in me or Quark before."

"It might be about this girl then, or her planet," Kira said.

"I don't know," Odo said. "I didn't see much more than a jail cell and a dying Romulan for days, and then I tried to avoid the natives. They are a surly, unlikable people."

"I've met Sarafina briefly. She didn't seem unlikable."

"A pretty snake is still a snake," Odo said.

"Odo, if I didn't know better I'd say you were a bit obsessed with her," Kira said.

"Not with her, with what Quark is using her for. She's a general on her own planet, or so she says. She had some power there. I know that much."

"Why did they arrest you?"

"When the shuttle landed we were attacked, and Quark managed to kill a few of them and injure a few others before they could take him down."

"Quark?" Kira asked. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. He's a trained fighter. I never would have guessed it, but he could probably take on most of the humans on this ship. I'd say a Cardassian or Klingon would wipe the floor with him, but he held his own. He would only tell me he'd been in the merchant marines."

"That sounds about right," Kira said. "I've heard of them. That's one tough bunch, but it's hard to imagine. He's just so... _goofy._ "

"All Feringees are to outsiders," Odo said. "I've never met one yet that didn't remind me of a carnival barker, but it only makes sense that they have to be more than that to wield the influence they have in the system."

"I wish I could have seen it," Kira said. "So then what?"

"It was the oddest thing. The hit that took him down didn't really touch his head. I've been thinking about it, and I can't decide what happened. I never saw a weapon, but it looked like light jumped from a soldier's hand to his head."

"After he went down I surrendered, and we ended up in jail, and I couldn't get a doctor in to see to him. Why are you smiling like that?"

"Just...you. Only you would have been so worried about getting a doctor to tend to your enemy when your own life was probably on the line."

"It's hard to think of Quark as an enemy," Odo said. "Sometimes he seems that way, but a lot of times he's almost like a bad child, and then he'll do something really bad and I'll be reminded that he is dangerous, even if he seems like a fool."

"Sometimes he almost seems like an annoying friend," Kira said.

"He's an enemy to justice," Odo said. "All Feringee are, and if I could get him off this station I wouldn't hesitate, but I couldn't let him just die in there. He was innocent in that situation."

"He didn't die, so I assume you got him help somehow," Kira said.

"Sarafina came in because she was curious about prisoners that weren't Romulan, and she recognized him from when she was younger. I don't know much about their relationship, but from the little I've gathered she owes him something, and she seems very fond of him."

"I'd hate to owe Quark," Kira said.

"She doesn't seem to mind, and what's more suspicious is that he didn't seem to take advantage of it. He was injured and weak though, and we were helping him, so he may have just recognized the wisdom of pretending to be harmless."

"What else?" Kira asked.

"That's about all," Odo said. "We argued most of the way back, and she seemed very interested in learning about the Rules of Acquisition. I tried to follow her a couple of times, but she lost me both times. She's good. I've been too busy to launch an investigation until now, and there isn't much information on her planet. It's raided occasionally by Romulans for unknown reasons, and most people avoid the area. The people are reported to be xenophobic and have a hair-trigger attitude, but she seems to embrace learning about other cultures. It doesn't add up."

"I'll see if I can get you some information," Kira said.

"I don't want to drag you into this," Odo said. "Anything involving Quark ends up being a slimy, headache causing mess."

"I know how much he gets to you, and I don't like him either, but he's not really that hard to deal with. I've thrown him through that mirror he loves so much a few times, and he's learned some healthy boundaries - at least concerning what he says to me. That mirror must be expensive to replace."

Odo chuckled. "I wish I could have seen that."

"He probably would have pressed charges if you were there," Kira said. "I'd hate to have to pay him a fine. It would add insult to having to deal with him."

"Why do you go down to Quark's anyway?" Odo asked.

"Sometimes I really need a Ractajino at 10 at night after a long shift, and it's the only place to get one. And Dax is there a lot when she's off duty. She's my only female friend, and I'll deal with an annoying Feringee to see her. Besides, Rom and Nog are enjoyable."

"Rom is as much of a criminal as his brother," Odo said. "I have some hope for Nog. He seems to make better choices than his family. At least he spends time with Jake Sisko instead of Quark's criminal contacts."

"He's a good boy, in his own way," Kira said. "I don't know if it's because he grew up off of Ferenginar or some other reason, but he seems a lot easier to deal with."

"So, how is you _other_ problem?" she asked.

"I can shift again," Odo said, "but I'm sluggish about it. I'm sure things will get better over time."

Kira's watch chimed. "I have to go or I'm going to be late," she said. "It's been fun." As usual, she moved quickly, and Odo barely got to wish her a good morning before she was gone.

 _If only I was Bajoran I would marry her,_ Odo thought for perhaps the hundredth time, but he knew it was futile. She might enjoy him as a friend, but he was sure she'd never accept him as a mate. She chose spiritual, gentle and yet passionately religious men, something he definitely wasn't.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch 7

When Sarafina came into the bar later Quark looked quickly for the tell-tale signs of a human relationship, but she wasn't wearing any new jewelry, and she didn't have any bruises on her neck.

She didn't have an elated school-girl crush look either. He decided that quickly. Her demeanor had a no nonsense, businesslike quality to it, until she smiled at Quark and her face softened again.

 _She really has no idea who she is,_ Quark realized with a pain. _Did she ever have any kind of childhood, or was she always a warrior since I left her there?_

"So, I have good news," she said.

"Please don't let it be about Dr. Bashir," Quark said.

"He's involved, but not how you think," Sarafina said. "I hope I haven't given you the wrong idea. I care about you a lot, but there's nothing more than that, you know?"

"I have too much of a picture of you as that injured child to see you that way," Quark said. "I'm more concerned with what Dr. Bashir might cost you. There's no profit in premature love. You have to give things like that time to grow, and I know he moves fast."

"Well, he tries to anyway," Sarafina said. "I've been holding that kind of conversation off for now, but I don't know how long I can keep him waiting until I have to either be clear with him or accept a relationship with him."

"I thought he wasn't your type," Quark said.

"He isn't," Sarafina said, "but right now he's an invaluable ally to me, and I'll do anything to help my people. I mean _anything,_ Quark."

The businesslike, hard look was back.

"You were right when you said everyone is motivated by greed. I will do whatever is necessary to acquire the means to end the Romulan invasions. Peace is my profit."

"You learned your lessons well," Quark said sadly. "I wish it could be another way. He'd probably help you if you were in a relationship or not."

"You don't have to protect me," Sarafina said. "I've always done what I had to too survive, and as I grew older I did what I had to too help my unit survive, and to achieve my mission, and now to benefit my entire race. I think you have the wrong idea about me. I've been able to relax here, to let my guard down a bit, but I've never forgotten why I'm here. The Romulans are probably planning their next invasion already. I'm working against time, but Julian has been helping me."

"Oh, he's Julian now," Quark grumbled.

"It isn't your business," Sarafina said.

"It affects my business," Quark said. "I have a hard time believing that you're this hardened, cynical person you're trying to convince me exists. I've seen different things in you in just the time I've known you."

"You're safe," Sarafina said. "You don't realize how important that is, but there are only a handful of people I've ever felt safe around. When I'm with you I feel like I don't have to look over my shoulder to see where enemies might be. It reminds me of when my father was still alive."

"Your father reminded you of Feringee?" Quark asked.

"No. He reminded me of you - sort of. He was a businessman too. He sold transports, and he loved his job - loved working with people. He could talk anyone into anything if he wanted to, but I knew that he also helped out at the local food bank, and he organized charity events for the orphanage."

"I don't do charity," Quark said uneasily. "That's a dirty word to us."

"No," Sarafina said, "but you manage to have a much kinder heart than you want to admit. It seems to me that you might as well profit by it."

This got Quark's full attention. "How so?"

"I'm not sure," she said, "but a businessman needs allies."

"Allies are just customers that haven't realized they've been taken," Quark said. "It's a human concept that's deceptive. Did you get that from Dr. Bashir?"

"No," Sarafina said. "I got that in the orphanage that got turned into a boot camp after the last attack. It was a harsh world, and children are as savage as any Romulan. One of the first things I learned was that you'd better have someone to watch your back, or you're done for. The more people you have attached to you, the better your chances of living."

"That doesn't sound like profit," Quark said. "It sounds like basic survivalism."

"Do you trust Rom?" Sarafina asked.

"More than anyone else, I suppose," Quark said. "He'd bankrupt me if he gained by it, but I know he'd take me into his house the next day and help me get back on my feet – at interest - , and he doesn't have half the lobes he'd need to cheat me."

"Then there is profit in that relationship," Sarafina asked. "It's potential profit at least. In my world it has paid itself back to choose the right people to trust."

"So you trust Dr. Bashir then?" Quark asked.

"I trust him to be true to who he is, and I think he sees himself as a sort of savior of the downtrodden. I don't know much about humans, so I could be entirely misunderstanding him, but if I'm judging him correctly he would do a lot in the name of charity and honor, and that means that I can depend on him, at least for now."

"And what has he been helping you with?" Quark asked.

"We think we've discovered what the Romulans are after."

"Wait, you told him about that?" Quark asked. "Are you mad? He's a Starfleet officer. He'll tell Sisko, and then the Federation will take over. We needed more time to plan before bringing them into this. You don't understand how big the Federation is, or how they creep into everything they touch. One moment you're dealing with them, and the next minute you _are_ them."

"I convinced him that it wouldn't make sense to bring it to Commander Sisko's attention until we had proof."

"And what makes you think he'll keep that promise?" Quark asked.

"Hormones," she said dryly. "I'm starting to think you're the naive one."

"No. I just find it unsettling that this is natural to you," Quark said. "Did you have any kind of childhood at all, or were you always like this? It's like you're some sort of cross between a Feringee and a Vulcan. That logic is so cold, but it will lead to profit, I suppose."

"It isn't like I enjoy doing this," she said, "but it isn't the first time I've had to use charm to get what I needed. You're station here is like a bit of heaven. If you want food it's just here. You don't have to find wells or barter for water. I did, and a person's body is just another form of currency. Part of the reason I want peace so badly is so future generations won't have to know what it means to manipulate people just to survive. I'd love for the children to be able to just ask for food and have it given to them like I did before the invasion. We keep rebuilding and making our cities safe, just to have it destroyed over and over again."

"No one goes hungry on Ferenginar," Quark said. "There's always someone willing to sell expired or bruised food cheaply, and most businesses will pay someone under the table to do some manual labor or dirty work for them. Even those who can't work can volunteer for scientific or medical studies to earn money. No one should ever have to starve, especially children."

Sarafina laughed, but it didn't sound like there was much joy in it. "Listen to us. We both want to be who we need to be, but who we are just keeps coming out, doesn't it?"

It hit too close to home. "This is getting morbid," Quark said. "What progress have you and Dr. Bashir made then?"

"We think that the Romulans are probably after us personally and not a mineral on our planet."

"Rom told me about how you handled those men who were harassing you," Quark said. "Does it have something to do with that?"

"We think it might," she said. "Julian isn't aware of any other races that can channel energy like we can. He said it's similar to psychic energy, but that we affect the environment instead of minds. I never knew they couldn't do that, but Dr. Bashir said he's never heard of another race that interacts with energy the way we do. It's only a small part of our population, so I just always assumed I'd never seen a Romulan energy user."

"If that's so then it explains why the Romulans keep invading, but not the timing," Quark said.

"They attack a few cities intensely every time, and then they cover their tracks. I think they're probably taking our people and experimenting on them. I'm afraid that they come back when their prisoners die."

"It sounds like something they'd do," Quark said. "They love doing experiments, especially eugenics. I never liked dealing with them."

"And I assume you are already planning something," Sarafina said.

"I've found that there isn't anything desirable that can't be bought and sold," Quark said, "and this is no different. All we need to do is find out why your people can convert energy into a weapon, and then I'll sell the information to the Romulans and they'll leave you alone. Everyone prospers, and we all go home happy and having what we need to get out of the situation. I then sell the information to the Federation, which keeps the Romulans from dominating the galaxy, and we all live somewhat happily ever after, or at least until someone comes up with a better way to kill each other."

"And you profit the most, I suppose?" Sarafina asked.

"Naturally," Quark said. "It's all business, isn't it?"

"To you it is," Sarafina said. "To me it's survival."


	8. Chapter 8

Ch 8

If Quark knew what was happening in Kira's quarters he would have been nervous. It was one of his unwritten rules to try to keep the people he was having business dealings with away from each other, and it was better in his opinion to keep the women he was interested in away from each other as well. He'd had too many altercations with Kira to be happy about her talking with Dax about him, which is exactly what the two women were doing. It was all misunderstandings, of course. Bajorans were so dramatic about everything.

Kira pulled two cups of tea from the replicator. Sisko had introduced her to the bitter drink, which she liked occasionally, and she tried to spend time with Dax when she could. Dax had a way of helping her to forget the stress of work and just exist in the moment.

"I saw you and Quark leaving the Klingon restaurant," Kira said. "He looked drunk. You two looked cozy."

"He was drunk," Dax said. "He drank two large chalices of blood wine. I think he started out trying to impress me and just ended up liking it. Blood wine really gets to a person. I've never seen a non-Klingon do that before. I can, but I was a Klingon for an entire lifetime. I also worked my way up to drinking so much blood wine."

"Why are you leading him on?" Kira asked. "He's a little weasel, but that's really mean."

Dax blew on her tea to cool it. "Who says I'm leading him on?"

"Wait. Do you mean you and Quark? No."

Dax shrugged. "Bajorans are so serious about relationships. Life is too short for all that. I've been around long enough to know that the "right one" comes along so rarely it's better to enjoy who you're with."

"But _Quark?_ "

"Why not Quark?" Dax said. "Don't tell me you share the Federation prejudice against them."

"They treat women so badly," Kira said. "I can't imagine you staying at home and letting some man make all the decisions."

"Feringhee are extremely serious about their mates," Dax said, "but they can be a lot of fun to date. They have entirely different expectations about dating."

"You've dated a Feringhee before?" Kira asked. "I feel like I barely know you."

"I dated one, briefly. He taught me how to gamble, and we had some fun but, but then he got too serious and I cut it off. He wanted me to stop wearing clothes, and I don't want to be nude in public."

"But why _Quark_? He's so... ridiculous."

"I know," Dax said, "but it's cute somehow, and there's another reason."

"What's that?"

"Well, the other Feringhee I dated was sort of a prude. He was fun, but we never ended up in bed. I've been curious."

"You're serious?" Kira asked. "This isn't some sort of sick joke?"

"Feringhee say that their manhood is in direct proportion to the size of their ears. They call it "having the lobes"."

"I've heard that before," Kira said. "I've heard Quark and Rom say that someone doesn't "have the lobes" to do something."

"Quark has huge ears," Dax said, "even for a Feringhee."

"Oh," Kira said, finally understanding what Dax was leading up to. "Eww. Dax. I just had a mental picture that I never want to have again."

"It's just because he looks so different from Bajorans," Dax said. "If I was talking about a Bajoran man you'd be happy for me."

"But he's so... I mean, with the sharp teeth and the ears. And he's so short! You're really pretty Dax. You could get with the handsomest men on the station."

"I think you're forgetting that I look like a large slug and this body is just my current container," Dax said. "I see beauty in different ways than you do. Something happened recently. I don't think he'd like me to give out the details, but he took a hit to the head, and he got emotional because of it. He said some things that gave me new insight into his character. He's not at all the man I knew. He's much deeper than that, and I want to know him better."

"I'll be a bridesmaid at your wedding," Kira said, "but I can't promise I won't laugh or vomit. I'm not sure which."

"I'm not looking for a mate," Dax said. "I just want to have some fun, maybe get him into bed, or not. You're making more out of it than there is."

"You two would just make such an odd couple," Dax said.

"Not any odder than you and Odo," Dax said.

"Oh, that again? Odo and I are just friends, and that's all either of us wants."

"Are you sure about that?" Dax asked.

"He's so up front about everything. I'm sure if he wanted more he would have said so by now."

"And if he did?"

"He doesn't," Kira said, "so it doesn't matter. He's one of the best friends I've ever had, and I'm not going to risk that over romance. There are plenty of men out there; there's only one Odo."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quark had his own share of problems. One of which was that occasionally Rom would simply head off in his own mental direction, leaving his brother to try to figure out what was going on in that terminally warped head of his. Rom came in to the bar to start his late shift, and Quark wasn't sure what he was looking at. Rom generally dressed somewhat conservatively - unimaginatively in Quark's opinion, and his taste ran towards tight, single colored shirts under an open jacket. The most concession to style he generally made was a ruff around the collar of a couple of his jackets.

Quark closed his eyes, wondering if he was still suffering from the concussion somehow. But when he opened them Rom was still there, grinning like an idiot, and dressed like - something. Quark wasn't sure what.

He had on a normal outfit for him; a pair of bluish-grey slacks with matching tunic and a medium brown jacket. Quark had tried to tell him why he should spend more money on clothing, but Rom never did, and the general effect was slightly shabby.

He was wearing a hat, which Quark would have never thought he'd see. Feringhee wore head coverings because of the weather, but the idea of hats as ornamentation was for other races until Garak had introduced the expertly crafted Fedora to Quark.

It was a monstrosity, a sharp black that contrasted with the faded, muted colors of Rom's clothes. It was probably a large hat for a human, but it was ridiculously small on Rom's head, and it looked like it was barely staying on. It had a wide brim and was - worst of all in Quark's opinion - decorated with silver stars and some hideous turquoise drop shaped ornaments.

"Where did you get that?" Quark asked.

"You like it?" Rom asked. "Chief O'Brien showed me an old hew-mon movie, and the barkeeps wore hats like this. Everyone in the movie did. I replicated it. It cost me about a week's worth of coupons, but I really like it."

Someone came in the bar, a human Quark didn't know. He laughed loudly at Rom and shook his head. Quark's ears burned with embarrassment.

"You didn't quite get the look you were going for," he said, trying to decide how to get his point across without Rom realizing he thought he looked like an idiot.

"Yeah," Rom said. "I made it look just like the barkeep on the movie, but he had all black clothes except for a white shirt and a weird rope thing around his neck with a silver medallion on it. I can't afford the rest of the outfit for a couple of weeks. I'm going to build it a piece at a time."

"I know the movie you mean," Quark said, even though he had no idea. "Hew-mon heads are too small though. You replicated it exactly, so it doesn't work, and you hate wearing black."

Rom took off the hat and looked down at it, brushing a piece of lint of it's too-perfect black exterior. It had the look of cheaply replicated clothing, a sort of shiny fakeness that showed through.

Quark took the hat from him. "Your birthday is coming up," he said. "I'll get you something more appropriate. We'll consider it payback for when you paid for Sarafina's quarters."

 _That takes care of two obligations at one price,_ Quark thought, _and Rom won't run around looking like a lost child playing dress-up. Rom might notice there's a discrepancy between what I owe him and how much the hat costs, but I doubt it._

"What is it called?" Quark asked.

"I asked Chief O'Brian, and he said it's a Stetson," Rom said. "A bunch of the guys were watching what they called cowboy movies. You should come with us sometime."

"I'll pass," Quark said. "Spending time with hew-mons off hours is my idea of hell. You should be careful, or you'll end up drinking root beer?"

"What?" Rom asked.

"Never mind."

He headed directly toward the place where anyone on the station with fashion problems went, at least anyone who wasn't disgusted with dealing with a Cardassian. When he showed Garak the hat Garak turned it over in his hands, handling it as if Quark had handed him something obscene. He handed it back to him with a bit of a sneer.

"That is a travesty, friend Quark. Why ever would you bring me such a thing?"

"Have you ever heard of a Stet-son?" Quark said, trying out the unfamiliar name.

"I can't say that I have," Garak said. "I assume that this is one?"

"Rom was watching an old movie, and the bartender was wearing one. Now he wants one, and this one obviously didn't turn out right. Do you think you could make him something that would be more..."

"Or, well, less..."

"Tacky?" Garak asked. "Say no more. I'll find just the thing for him. I hope you did explain my service charges to him?"

"I'll be paying," Quark said.

Garak tilted his head to the side and opened one eye slightly wider in a way that made him look even more reptilian than normal. "How uncharacteristically generous," he said.

"There's no reason to be insulting about it," Quark said.

"I meant no offense," Garak said, "but it is unusual for you to pay someone else's bill."

"I'm using one payment to cover two obligations," Quark said. "I still come out ahead, and I know you'll have him looking as presentable as he ever gets instead of trying to run the bar in this _thing_."

"Your faith in me is humbling," Garak said. "I'll find out what a Stet-son is meant to look like and get back to you. I'll make it more in keeping with his usual clothing choices. I assume you don't want the turquoise elements."

Quark heard Garak laughing as he walked out, but instead of being angry he was worried. _If something happens to me I hope Nog can take care of his father. He'd flounder on his own._

Quark intentionally left the hat with Garak, hoping that he'd never have to see it again.

"Where is my new hat?" Rom asked as soon as Quark came into the bar, quashing any hope that he might have forgotten his newest toy.

"I left it with Garak so he could do some research," Quark said. "My Fedora that he sold me was originally a hew-mon design, and he had to completely reimagine the concept to fit Feringhee heads."

"You did that for me?" Rom asked.

"Don't make too much out of it," Quark said. "I can't have my brother going around looking half-Feringhee and half old hew-mon movie character. It makes me look bad."

He heard a soft laugh behind him. Dax had a cruel smile.

"How long have you been there?" Quark asked.

"Long enough," Dax said. "That was cute."

"Yeah, Rom can be cute sometimes," Quark said after making sure that Rom wasn't around anymore. "It's annoying, but I guess he never grew up in some ways."

Dax put a hand along Quark's jaw, running her finger down it. "No. I mean you're cute. Why do you pretend like your brother annoys you so much when you obviously care for him?"

"What, a person can't do both?" Quark asked. "Brothers are supposed to be annoying. It's in the job description."

"I can't stay long," Dax said. "I just wanted to bring this by." She handed Quark a data screen with Klingon written on it. "The cook over at the Klingon restaurant wanted me to give you this."

"Is it a threat?" Quark asked.

"No," she said. "He wrote a song about you. Apparently you're quite the sensation over there."

"I think I'd be more comfortable with a threat," Quark said.

It wasn't until she'd left that what she'd said fully registered with him, and he moved down to the end of the bar. Morn was talking with the human dabo girl that was always trying to get his attention lately, or rather she was talking - a lot - and he was absently listening.

"Go make eyes at the gamblers for awhile," Quark said to her, and she harrumphed and left, but not before winking coyly at Morn.

Morn took a sip of his tepid drink. Morn always drank the first quarter quickly and then nursed the rest of his beer past the point where it was cold, and far past where most humans would have found it acceptable.

"Morn, I'd like to ask you for some advice," Quark said.

"Mmmm?" Morn asked.

"I know you get around with the ladies," Quark said. "What does it mean if a female says you're cute?"

Morn took a sip of beer and looked off into the distance for a full minute before answering. "What race?"

"Trill," Quark said.

Quark waited patiently for Mort to answer, knowing it would be worth the wait. People underestimated Mort, but Quark had never made that mistake.

"Trill?" Mort asked.

"Yes."

"It means she thinks you're funny," Mort said. He went back to his beer, watching a few people come into the bar.

"Oh," Quark said, feeling defeated.

Just as he was turning away to check on the new customers, Mort said, "or she's flirting. Hard to tell with Trill."

Quark tried to tell himself that the little jumpy feeling he felt in his chest was just from the idea of getting with someone as desirable as Dax, but there was more to it. He knew the truth. He wanted more from Dax than a night together, as unforgettable as that would be.

Quark caught sight of himself in the bar's mirror and straightened his vest. It was a good one that he'd had for a couple of years, but he took good care to keep his clothes looking new. It was genuine leather from some animal that had been spotted in an unusual pattern, and he knew it brought out the blue in his eyes, and the cut of it made his ears look even larger than normal.

He smiled at his own reflection, noticing his perfect teeth and fetching eyes. _It's only a matter of time,_ he thought. _I should get her back to that Klingon restaurant. I wonder how long I should wait before I introduce her to Moogie. She'll love Moogie._

He didn't worry about Dax trying to convince Moogie to act less like a Feringhee, or Moogie shocking Dax. That would be one of the advantages of dating someone centuries old. There couldn't be much that she hadn't seen before, and probably not much that would offend her unnecessarily.

It did remind him of something he hadn't thought about. Jadzia was only one form of Dax. She had been Kurzon before, and even though Quark had only known Dax in her current form he was momentarily thrown by the idea of making love to an old Klingon man, but he remembered Dax's current tantalizing curves and put the idea aside

He had made arrangements to meet Sarafina, but when she came in with Bashir he wasn't able to hide his disappointment.

"I don't remember telling you to bring a date," Quark snapped.

Dr. Bashir had a way of drawing himself up to his full height when he was offended that simultaneously amused and irritated Quark.

"You said he knew," Dr. Bashir said to Sarafina.

"He does," she said, glaring at Quark. "Stop being difficult Quark. We have work to do."

"You and I have work to do," Quark said. "I don't think the Dr. is interested in financial matters."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Dr. Bashir said. He turned to Sarafina. "When you two iron this out I'll see if I can make time for this, but until then I have things to do besides having a lobe measuring contest."

He turned to leave, but Sarafina caught him by the arm just above the wrist. He stopped and looked down at her hand on his arm with surprise at the iron grip.

She let him go. "We need your expertise, Julian. _I_ need your knowledge. You will help me, won't you Julian?" she asked. "Not for myself, but for my people."

Quark had seen better. Most manipulative women he knew would have added a pout or a bit of coyness, but she simply asked. He hated the type of woman who would use a baby voice to get her way, but from what he knew of Dr. Bashir it wouldn't have worked anyway. Directness was probably a better route to take.

"Of course I'll help you," Dr. Bashir said. "You shouldn't even need to wonder about that."

"And why do we need a doctor?" Quark asked.

"Because I think that what the Romulans are after is inside the Genoans bodies," Bashir said. "If we can discover exactly how they can transfer energy from one form to another we can could use the information to build personal shields so that the Federation can finally get an upper hand in the fight against the Borg. There are medical uses I can think of, and I'm sure there are a number of other, positive uses for that energy."

Quark glanced at Sarafina, who shook her head slightly so that Bashir didn't see her.

"Right," Quark said. "I'm sure there are all sorts of ways it could be useful."

"Yes," Dr. Bashir said, "and I might as well tell you that I'm here to protect her interests. I'm sure you've already thought of a million ways to profit off of her peoples' misery, but I'm going to make sure that they're protected."

"You misunderstand," Quark said. "I only have her interests at heart."

"You talk like I've never met a Feringhee before," Dr. Bashir said. "I respect your beliefs, but I'm not going to let you take advantage of her."

"Now you're talking like _I'm_ not here," Sarafina said. "I need your expert advice, Julian, not your protection. Quark is a friend, and I'm not afraid of him taking advantage of me."

Just as Bashir opened his mouth to reply his com badge chirped. "Medical emergency in hanger bay 4."

"I have to go," Bashir said, "but we'll talk later." He rushed from the bar, almost running over Rom in his hurry to get to the emergency.

"What were you thinking?" Quark asked. "He'll ruin everything."

"No," Sarafina said. "I'll make sure you get to be the negotiator between my people and the Federation. I know why you're doing this, and I'm going to get what both of us need."

"You can't do it this way!" Quark said. "I know you mean to use him, but we shouldn't bring him in right at the beginning. He'll tell Sisko everything, and we'll lose control!"

"There isn't anything to lose control over," Sarafina said. "I don't care what the Federation does with the information. I did a bit of research, and I'm sure that they won't be a danger to my people. I think they'll use it against the Romulans, and it will probably draw the Romulans away from us and into more conflict with the Federation."

"But Bashir is a wild card," Quark said. "You don't introduce those like this."

"I think you just don't want to lose control of the situation," Sarafina said.

"Dr. Bashir is one of the most dangerous types of men," Quark said. "He thinks he's selfless, and those sort of men cause more trouble trying to do good than most people can cause simply following their own interests."

"I think you're forgetting that I have an advantage," Sarafina said.

"And what is that?" Quark asked.

"As long as I don't ask him to act against his own conscience I can probably get him to do what I want him to."

"And how can you be so sure?" Quark asked.

"Because he's the kind of man who wants a woman to need him," Sarafina said, "and all I have to do is let him know he's my savior." She spat the last part out bitterly. "On Genoa it a man might expect sex for a favor, or a woman might use it to get ahead, but I've never met someone who would need to be convinced he's not being traded with. Your people understand the profit motive, so you should understand that it's just one more type of trade. These humans are bothersome people. From what I've seen of them they have to believe they're doing something for the "right" reasons, and those reasons have to be so ridiculously complicated it's ridiculous."

"You sound like you dislike him," Quark said.

"No," Sarafina said. "He bothers me. If he just wanted sex this would be easy, but he makes it so much more complicated. I'm not exactly sure what it is he does want, and I'm not used to that. I've lived my life learning how to read people; it's why I'm alive. I'll be glad to see the last of Dr. Bashir."

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that," Quark said.

"He's a good person," she said. "I don't want to hurt him, but I don't trust him. No one that good is honest."

Quark nodded. "And now you understand hew-mons."

"He says we have an organ that he hasn't seen before. There's a network that runs alongside our blood vessels. We just call them blood vessels, but apparently most species only have one set. We knew that our energy transfer skills were connected with them, but Dr. Bashir thinks he can isolate what causes the reaction. He's been trying, and if he can do this we'll be well on our way to protecting my people."

Quark wasn't happy to see Dax and Kira walk in together. Usually he would enjoy having two beautiful women in his bar, but he didn't like the look on Dax's face. It suggested a prank, and the smirk on Kira's face suggested he would be the target.

"Do you remember that business proposition Kira and I were working on?" Dax asked. "We could use some advice."

Quark checked to make sure Kira didn't seem as if she was about to attack. He hadn't done anything, but that hadn't stopped her before. She almost killed him that time he made the hologram of her, and that was nothing - certainly nothing to throw a man through his own, very expensive, mirror.

She wasn't holding any weapons or standing in a fighting stance, so he thought she might just be along to spend time with Dax.

"Anything to help two beautiful ladies like yourselves," he said, "as long as bodily injury isn't part of the deal."

"That depends on if you behave yourself or not," Kira said.

Dax pulled a small box from her pocket and laid it on the counter. "There's a contest next week on Bajor, and whoever wins gets their creation officially sponsored to be sold to help raise money to help orphaned children."

"Do you mean you want me to help you make profit so you can give it away?" Quark asked. "That's disgusting."

"If it offends your delicate morality I'd hate to be the cause of that," Kira said. "I told you he wouldn't do it," she said to Dax. "He probably couldn't handle it anyway."

 _Don't do it,_ Quark thought. Kira wasn't even trying to hide her manipulations, but he couldn't let her walk out and think he was a coward.

"I'll try it, on the condition that my name is never linked with the project." He shuddered. "Charity, ugh."

Dax opened the box and showed him a few small hard candies, each about the size of his thumb. They were a pale off-white color, slightly translucent orbs.

"Try one," Dax said.

"You first," Quark said.

"I told you he'd say that," Kira said. "You don't trust us, Quark?"

"I trust you to be who you are," Quark said, "so you two eat one first."

Dax and Kira both ate one, and Kira closed her eyes and sighed. "I can't believe we captured the flavor like that."

"It wasn't hard to make," Dax said.

Quark picked one up and rolled it in his palm. "What is it?"

"It's entirely new," Dax said. "There's a hard sugar shell, but inside that is a liquid gel."

"That doesn't sound like much," Quark said. "I've seen kids with those before. What are they called? Squishies?"

"Yes," Kira said, "but these are hasparat flavored."

"You're joking," Quark said. "You made a candy the flavor of hasparat." He put it in his mouth, and when he bit into it a burst of thick liquid shot out of the candy searing his tongue. His eyes immediately began to water. "How much brine did you use?"

"The regular amount," Kira said. "We let it pickle for a full week before we used it though. What do you think?"

"I think my tongue is being assaulted!" he said. He spat it in the trash. "That is vile!"

"But does it taste like hasparat?" Kira asked.

"It tastes exactly like it!" Quark said. "I feel like I'll never get the taste out of my mouth."

"I thought you liked hasparat," Dax said.

Quark remembered telling one of the dabo girls that he loved it, hoping a little appreciation of her native culture would impress her.

"I do," he said. "I don't like hasparat candy. Why don't you go try that on a Bajoran, or Dr. Bashir? I know he loves hasparat. Can't get enough of it."

"How about you?" Kira asked Sarafina, holding out the last of the candies.

"I'd hate to take it and deprive the doctor of a treat that he favors," she said.

"Try it," Dax said. "You might like it."

"So far I'm not fond of foreign food, much less candy that mimics foreign food. I'll pass."

"You don't know what you're missing," Kira said. "Thanks for your input, Quark. I know now not to market it toward Feringhee."

"I don't think you wanted my input at all," Quark said. "I think you just wanted to inflict that on me."

Kira smiled sweetly. "Now, you know I would never do that. After all, you've never done anything to deserve it, have you?"

Dax snickered.

 _I hate it when women conspire,_ Quark thought. _It turns the best of them into sneaking girls._

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Quark said.

"You don't?" Kira asked, and the lightheartedness of the prank slipped away as Kira's temper - always ready where Quark was concerned - slipped to the surface. "How about when you..."

"Why don't we try that candy out on Dr. Bashir?" Dax asked. She put a hand on Kira's arm, gently steering her toward the door.

"What's with her?" Sarafina asked after they left. "Ex-girlfriend?"

"No," Quark said. _I'd love to have a shot at her though,_ he thought, imagining her symbolic earrings on his bedside stand as he made love to her. "Just a cranky Bajoran. She says she hates me, but she comes here anyway. I think she's secretly in love with me."

"Of course she is," Sarafina said. "If that were true you'd be a fool to let her alone with Dax. They'd trade notes."

"Don't think I haven't considered that," Quark said, "but there's no point in trying to persuade Dax away from her. They're thick as thieves, and Dax and I aren't in that type of relationship - yet."

"Yet?"

"Well, I have hopes," Quark said.

"But she's the exact opposite of everything the Rules of Acquisition have to say about women."

"I know," Quark said. "I've been away from home for so long I'm developing some shocking preferences. I should really go to temple, but it's so expensive."

"So you're telling me that you caring for Dax is a mistake - a sin?" she asked, leaning forward onto the bar and looking into his eyes intently.

He remembered Dax at her best, laughing with the Klingons and winning betting games against him. Her kind heart included him in it, and he couldn't see any connection with her as a mistake, not after she'd seen him at his lowest and still wanted to be with him.

"No. She's beautiful, and powerful. That makes her desirable to me."

"Quark?"

"Yes."

"I think you're full of shit."

"Why are we even talking about this?"Quark asked. "It's none of anyone's business but mine. I desire her, and that makes her worth acquiring. There's nothing sinful about that."

"If you say so," Sarafina said. "I've spent a bit of time with her, and she does seem the opposite of the ideal Feringhee woman as you've described one to me."

"Oh what do you know?" Quark asked testily. "You're as xenophobic as the rest of your people. How would you know anything about another race?"

She glowered at him, and for a moment Quark thought that he wouldn't have a chance if someone powerful enough to be a general came at him violently.

"I'm still a woman," she said, "and I can tell when a man is infatuated. Just admit it has nothing to do with profit and everything to do with who she is."

"I would marry a Romulan if there was enough profit in it," Quark lied. "You're trying to turn me into someone I'm not. Stop it. I did one thing years ago that I still regret and..."

He stopped, suddenly shamed by the horror and shock on Sarafina's face.

"You regret not leaving me to be tortured?" she asked. "All my life I thought that a selfless Feringhee meant anyone could achieve anything if they wanted it badly enough. I dragged myself out of the mud because I believed it, and now I find out that my philosophy was based on a lie?"

"No," Quark said. "Forget I said that. I regret acting against my principles. I don't regret protecting you."

"You're a manipulative bastard just like all the other Feringhee," Sarafina said. "I thought you were better than them. I thought you were different."

"I never asked you to," Quark said. "I am proud to be a Feringhee, and stop shaming my people."

"Weasel!" she snapped.

"Hussy!" he responded. "Before you start accusing me of being manipulative you'd better remember that conversation we had about your plans for Dr. Bashir."

"That's different," she said.

"How? How is it different? You're using him to get what you want."

"It just is," she said.

"Stop acting like a child. The universe isn't what you thought it would be. Guess what? It never is, not for anyone. I thought by now I'd be running a few nice casinos with a good woman to support me and a son to take the business over when he cheated me out of it. Instead I'm stuck on a rickety space station that could be wiped out at any minute by whatever might come through that wormhole. You have to take what you have and make the most out of it. That's profit."

"You want to know something?" Sarafina asked. "I don't care about profit in the least."

"You're crossing a line Sarafina," Quark said.

"In fact, I think that _charity_ is more worthy of my time than profit," she said, her voice loud enough to be heard throughout the bar.

Rom stepped up to the counter and slammed his hands down on it. "Ok, that's enough. Nog is going to be home from school soon and I won't have him hearing heresy like this. You two take it somewhere else."

Both of them gaped at the usually friendly person they suddenly felt like they didn't know. "You two don't understand anything," Rom said. "In the entire universe nothing means more to me than Nog. He is profit to me, and the only reason you don't understand that is that you've never truly loved anyone. There's more to profit than latinum, Quark. And you're no better Sarafina."

Neither of them spoke, and neither of them looked Rom in the eye.

"That's what I thought," Rom said. Nog chose that inopportune moment to come into the bar and begin jabbering about his day.

Quark and Sarafina looked into each others' eyes. The moment was full of unresolved anger, and at the same time both of them were ashamed of their actions.

"I need to think," Sarafina said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Quark nodded. "That's probably best."

Sarafina left, and Rom gave Quark a dark look and went to the back, where Quark could hear him talking to Nog about some math lesson that he was excited about.

 _I'm glad we're empty right now,_ he thought, realizing that he'd completely lost his self-control. The rest of the night passed miserably, and he snarled at the customers whenever he felt like it, which was often.

O'Brian came in, because of could he did, and Quark pushed his favorite lager to him. "Thanks barkeep," O'Brian said with that smug grin of his.

 _I'd love to wipe that grin off his face,_ Quark thought. "I'm not in the mood," he said.

"Well that's too bad, because I am, _barkeep,_ " O'Brian said, and he laughed too loudly.

All of Quark's anger was about to erupt onto the hapless Irishman when Dax and Bashir came into the bar. He paid no attention to Bashir, but when he saw Dax he suddenly felt calmer, less worried about the problems of his day.

"Red leaf tea," Dr. Bashir said.

"Make me something surprising," Dax said as she slid into a chair with the grace of a cat.

"I'll do that," Quark said. "I need to get something from the back."

"I'll wait," Dax said. "I'm curious to see what you'll come up with."

Quark knew exactly what to make for her, and went to the back where he kept the best wines, stored properly at the right temperature and humidity for safety. He pulled out a green bottle and brushed the dust off.

 _This will do,_ he thought.

He wrapped a serving towel around the bottle to hide the label, wanting her to taste the beverage before she knew what it was. _This will impress her._

Meanwhile, O'Brian was putting things together. "What was that about?" he asked Dax.

"What?" she asked.

"You and Quark. If I didn't know better - and please tell me I know better - I'd think you two were a thing."

Dax shrugged. "He's fun. Don't read too much into it. You know how he is with women."

"You'd better be careful," Bashir said. "I've done some research on every race that I treat on the station, and Feringhee take their relationships very seriously."

"I know," Dax said, "but we're not in a relationship. He isn't serious. When have you known Quark to be serious about anything but Latinum or his family?"

"He's serious about watering down his drinks," O'Brian said. "He thinks I don't notice, but I do."

"I think that falls under the "money" category," Bashir said. "It wouldn't hurt you to drink a bit more water and less beer, Chief."

O'Brian took a long drink of his beer and wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. "Never drink with your doctor," he said. "When did you become a tee-totaler?"

"It wouldn't have anything to do with a new visitor on board that you've been "helping", would it?" Dax asked.

"I have no idea how she feels about drinking," Bashir said. "I just feel like tea today."

Quark came out with a champagne glass, with his other hand behind his back. "I've been saving this for a special occasion, or a special customer," he said to Dax. "Close your eyes."

"Ok. I might be a bit suspicious," Dax said.

"I want you to experience this without any preconceptions," Quark said. "Trust me. You'll love it."

Dax closed her eyes, and she heard the distinct "pop" of a wine bottle and then the sound of liquid pouring into the glass.

Quark took her hand and put it around the stem of the small glass, running a claw along her finger lightly. He whispered into her ear, "it only sparkles half as much as you."

Suddenly Dax felt very out of sorts. _Quark is just playing, right?_ She thought. But something seemed different than usual. She'd seen him bother the dabo girls, and she'd lost count of how many times he'd propositioned Kira - occasionally earning himself a minor injury for his efforts.

She'd never noticed before, but his interactions with her had always had a gentler quality. He was raunchy, of course. He wouldn't be Quark is he wasn't, but now he actually seemed romantic.

 _I'm imagining things,"_ Dax thought, and she sniffed the beverage he'd handed her. She'd expected the rich scent of wine, but instead she was met with a light, floral fragrance.

 _What kind of liquor is this?_ she wondered, and as it touched her lips she felt a tingle that spread to her tongue. At first she tasted nothing, and then the soft sweetness of a ripe peach surprised her. She remembered the only time she'd ever tasted one. Kurzon had taken a Federation ship that claimed to be a food transport vessel that had lost its way. After negotiations he had released the ship back to the Federation. It had turned out to be a transport after all, but while the cargo was painstakingly searched he had come across fresh fruit, and the crew dared each other to eat the strangely colored, oozing human food.

He'd been the only one to try it, and he'd never forgotten the experience. He'd expected something salty; all human food was too salty, or at least that's what he'd heard. He'd never had any, but that sort of pointless excess seemed like something humans would indulge in.

The peach was sweet without being cloying, and unlike anything he'd ever tasted. But the best of all was that it had come from a captured human ship. It tasted like sweet victory.

Dax relived the memory, smiling at the smug way Kurzon had teased the Federation, and missing her Klingon body just a bit. A mild sense of melancholy followed briefly, and then the soft happiness of a lost memory that had been suddenly returned to its owner.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the drink. It was clear, and she could see small blue particles moving about inside it, swimming in the slightly effervescent fluid. They glowed with an inner phosphorescent light. And over the glass he saw Quark watching her expectantly, and she realized she'd never noticed how blue his eyes were, or how expressive. She'd known Quark long enough to have seen a lot of expressions, but she'd never seen him look so calm, so gentle. There was a look in his eyes that she was sure she'd never seen in any Feringhee unless they were...

She stopped herself before she continued the thought. She would not admit that Quark looked at her as Feringhee looked at their mates, and what she saw there was more than longing.

She took another sip, and tasted the sharp tang of her mother's special milky tea that she'd loved as a child. It was a memory of Jadzia's from far beyond her time as Dax, and she and her mother used to sit and study and drink tea together as she dreamed of life with a symbiot. Her mother's patient smile came back to her.

"It's amazing Quark," she said when the memory faded. "What is it?"

"Altarian water," Quark said.

"So this is Altarian water," Dax said, lifting the glass and looking deeply into it.

"The blue specks are alive," Quark said. "Small insects that have psychic abilities when ingested. Did they give you good memories?"

"The best," Dax said, "but Altarian water is so rare."

Dax hadn't even realized that Quark had leaned toward her as they spoke, and that she had leaned toward him, or that they had both lowered their voices. She only realized when it occurred to her that Quark was kissably close, and she wondered what the alcohol content of the water was, or if it was the effect of the psychic insects.

"This must have cost a fortune," she said.

"No charge for you," Quark answered.

The spell was broken by a gasp from Dr. Bashir and the sound of O'Brian choking on his beer. Dax and Quark leaned back, and both of them blinked. Dax felt like she'd been pulled from a dream, and she saw that Quark's cheeks had turned the dark tan that passed for a blush among his kind.

"It can have unusual effects," he said.

"It sure can," she said.

"Um, barkeep, more beer," O'Brian said, holding up his empty glass.

And the moment was completely broken, lost as Quark's face shifted back to its normal, shifty eyed and sharp look.

"Are you sure you don't need a bib Chief?" Quark snapped as he looked where the chief had spilled beer on himself in the shock of hearing Quark do something as generous as giving away expensive wine. "I might still have one in storage somewhere from when Nog was a baby."

"Stow that," O'Brian said, "and I'm not drunk enough to not taste you cheating me with the cheap stuff."

"Irritating hew-mon," Quark mumbled as he pulled another beer. "It's from the same tap. How could I be cheating you?"

"Talent," O'Brian said. "If there's one thing you're good at, it's cheating your customers."

"I had no idea you felt that way," Quark said. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

O'Brian scoffed and Bashir laughed. Dax chuckled, and she took one last sip of the precious liquid. Quark took the chance to study her openly while her eyes were closed as she enjoyed the water. _Like a statue of a goddess,_ he thought.

Sarafina walked into the bar, and Quark couldn't tell from her expression what she was feeling. _That one would make a great gambler,_ he thought. _Hell of a poker face when she puts her mind to it. It's too bad she usually doesn't bother hiding what she's feeling._

Dax was looking at him again with the dazed look of someone still in the grasp of the intoxicating Altarian water, and with a pain in his heart and an irritated glance at O'Brian he knew he'd have to go and handle business.

 _I've done enough for one day,_ he thought, but as Sarafina sat at a booth in the corner he decided she could wait a few minutes as he watched the last of the effects wear off - at least temporarily. Dax would have the most unusual hangover in the morning, when she woke to feel the last memory she experienced with the drink, as intense as the first time it happened.

Quark gave her a glass of regular water. "You probably need to wait before drinking," he said. "It's more intoxicating than it feels."

Dax smiled absently, her eyes glazed and distant. Dr. Bashir waved his hand in front of her face, and she giggled.

"Dax, are you ok?" Bashir asked.

"I'm great," Dax said with a dreamy tone to her voice. "Better than ever."

"What did you do to her?" Bashir demanded.

"Nothing," Quark said. "Altarian water is a religious experience. Don't ruin it for her."

O'Brian reached across the bar and grabbed Quark by the front of his vest, twisting it in his fist and pulling forward. Quark resisted the urge to attack. O'Brian was a street fighter, and even though Quark thought he could take him, it would ruin the day for Dax, and he wasn't sure the Irishman wouldn't throw him through his mirror.

"If you slipped something in that drink to manipulate her, I'll pull your intestines out through your nostrils," O'Brian hissed.

"It's just what it does," Quark said. "It doesn't even have alcohol in it."

Dax pulled limply at O'Brian's hand. "Stop Chief. I'm fine."

O'Brian shot Quark a hateful look. "I'm walking you back to your quarters," he said to Dax. "I've seen you drink Klingons under the table, and a little of that almost knocked you flat."

Dax murmured resistance, but she let the Chief lead her away.

"As if I'd ever do that to her," Quark said to Bashir.

"You did earn the reputation for that sort of thing," Bashir said.

"I've never forced myself on a woman!" Quark said.

"You are cavalier in how you treat them though," Bashir said. "You can hardly blame Miles for thinking you were trying to drug Dax and take advantage of her."

"I'd never!" Quark said.

"Do you mean to tell me you wouldn't take advantage of a situation like that?" Bashir asked.

"Not with her," Quark said quietly. "It would be like destroying a work of art."

"You have it bad," Bashir said.

Quark noticed that Sarafina was within earshot, and even for someone with small ears she was unashamedly eavesdropping.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch 9

"Dax is different," Quark said, "and I think of her as a friend. She isn't some little Dabo girl sleeping her way through the casino circuit. I treat people as they deserve, and that you think I'd ever hurt her just shows that you don't know anything about me."

"I guess I don't," Bashir said. "To listen to Sarafina you're a regular genius, and I know Dax chooses her friends carefully. I have a great deal of respect for Sarafina's intelligence, so perhaps there is much more to you than I know."

Quark was glad that Rom chose that moment to show up for his shift, and he turned it over to him quickly. "Rom will look after you," Quark told Bashir. "I have a few things to take care of."

Bashir looked as relieved to be free of the conversation as Quark felt. As Rom - blissfully oblivious Rom - served Morn and Dr. Bashir at the bar, Quark went to Sarafina. "I saw you taking an earful," he said. "Did you hear what you wanted to?"

"I heard what I needed to," she said. "We should talk."

Quark nodded, and he saw a mixed group of humans and Bajorans enter the bar, laughing and talking loudly. "Let's get out of here and go somewhere we can talk in private." He took her to his quarters and pointed toward a chair near his bed. "Well?"

"I acted like a child yesterday," Sarafina said. "I'm sorry."

"I provoked you," Quark said. "I know we both said things we didn't mean."

"For what it's worth I respect you," Sarafina said, "and you were right. I did expect you to act like a Genoran instead of a Feringhee."

"And I guess I expected you to be more like a..."

She waited. "More like a what?"

"More like a daughter," Quark said. "We both had the wrong ideas about each other."

"But it doesn't change what you did for me," she said.

"So, now what?" Quark asked. "We still have business to attend to. If Dr. Bashir can isolate what causes the Romulan equipment to fail, and we can find out why your physiology is so different from the rest of the species we've encountered we'll need to plan how to exploit that information."

"Quark, I did something last night, and it's going to make you really angry. I let my temper get the better of me."

"I know. I did too. Let's put it behind us."

"No, I mean I did something else. I went to talk to Commander Sisko."

"You what? You might have ruined everything."

"No. He doesn't believe me. He said that he doesn't want to be involved in one of your little schemes and he'll talk to you about it himself if it causes any problems on his station. I wanted you to know so that you won't be surprised."

 _She is a child,_ Quark thought.

"I thought this was important to you," Quark said. "If the Federation gets the information before we're ready..."

"Then what?" Sarafina interrupted him. "Then they would help my people before you could make money off of us? Is that what would happen? While you're trying to find a way to make profit off of our situation the Romulans are preparing. I'm going to try to find a way to make Sisko understand that this is real, and if he won't believe me then I'll find someone who will."

"But if you do that the Federation will take over," Quark said. "You don't know how they are. It seems like a good idea, but once they have control it will be just one more project for them, and you can't know if they'll do any good with it. They're a bunch of maudlin, sentimental fools that will only put their own interests first, but they'll do it with the feeling that they're helping you."

"They hate the Romulans as much as we do," Sarafina said.

"They would have to encroach on Feringhee space just to get to your planet," Quark said. "They won't do that. That's why you need me. You don't know enough about the laws and traditions of the Federation to deal with them."

"No, but I can learn. Quark, I love you. I always will. You were my hero growing up, and I'd like to think you're my friend now. But I have to do what is necessary to help my people. If you want any sort of contract with me you have to find a way before I do. I feel that the Federation is my best choice, at least for the moment."

Her betrayal shocked Quark at first, and then he felt a warm tingling sensation in his heart. "It's almost like having a son cheat me out of my business," he said. A few tears came despite his wishes.

"Oh Quark, I'm so sorry!" Sarafina said. "It's just how it has to be!"

"No, you don't understand," Quark said. "I've dreamed of the day a son would come to me and tell me that he would start putting me on an allowance because he'd gotten the business away from me without me even noticing. This is the closest I'll ever come to seeing that come true."

Sarafina's mouth was open as if to speak, but she said nothing and closed it again.

Quark grabbed her, hugging her tightly. "This is suddenly one of the best days of my life. Thank you for letting me know what it would feel like to be a father, just once."

"I tried to understand Feringhee customs," Sarafina said. "I needed you to be proud of me, so I learned as much as I could, but I don't understand Feringhee at all."

"It doesn't matter," Quark said. "You have the lobes of one, even if they aren't visible. I only wish you were a boy, but I can't have everything."

"So that's what happens in your families?" she asked. "Your sons put you out of business and then pay you an allowance?"

"It's our hope and joy," Quark said, "the payoff of a life well-lived."

"You know this means our partnership is dissolved?" she asked.

That brought Quark back to reality. "You can't mean that. After all we've been through together?"

"It's better this way," Sarafina said.

Quark felt the world crumble around him, and as the visions of profits slipped away from his he felt lightheaded. _Goodbye casino moon,_ he thought. He had only just realized what a large amount of money he was losing.

"Quark, are you ok?" Sarafina asked.

He shook his head, unable to talk. The floor seemed to recede and then sprung toward him. He landed on his knees, and Sarafina knelt by him.

"I think you'd better lie down," she said. "I'll get Julian."

Quark allowed her to help him onto a chair. "No. It's just a shock. I just need a few minutes to process this."

"At least let me get Rom," she said.

"He's running the bar," Quark said. "If he leaves then we'll lose customers. Just let me sit here and think for a bit."

"But Quark..."

"Sarafina, I want to be alone," Quark said. "This has been a bizarre day for me, and I think I just want it to be over."

She left, and Quark felt his equilibrium returning. He went to his bestroom and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to see the man who'd come so close to owning his own moon and failed.

"Failed again," he said. "Failed as usual." He had to retrieve anti-nausea medication from a cabinet as he suddenly realized the full implications of the conversation. His one saving grace was that he might make money off of Sarafina, which would mean his actions had been selfish after all, which would have made everything legal and ethical. But now that action had no benefit for him.

The door's buzzer couldn't have been less welcome. _I'll bet she called Bashir. The Federation will corrupt her so quickly. Even after ruining my life - again - she'd try to help me. I'll bet she'll love root beer._

"What is it?" he answered the intercom.

"Quark?" he heard Rom ask, and he realized he needed his brother more than he'd ever needed him before.

"Come in," Quark said.

"What's happening?" Rom asked. "Sarafina said you almost passed out, but that you wouldn't let her get Dr. Bashir."

"Rom, I have committed charity," Quark said. He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. "I can't deny it any longer. I'm _charitable,_ Rom. What can I do?" The last sentence was a wail of torment.

A high-toned wail escaped Rom. "No. Say it isn't true."

"Sarafina just ended our partnership. It means I did everything for less than nothing. Someone else is profiting off of my selfless actions!"

"That's disgusting!" Rom said. "You're exaggerating. I know you are." He sat by Quark and put his arms around him. "We'll find a way to get through this, but Nog can never know."

"I'll never let him find out," Quark said. "The Great Inquisitor will hold this against me though."

"He will," Rom said. "There's no getting around that."

Quark wished he could talk to Dax, who seemed to not only understand but be able to help him understand his own confused soul, but he didn't want to be shamed in front of her again.

"I think you should go home for awhile," Rom said. "Spend some time with Moogie. It will help."

"It would," Quark said. Moogie had turned his and Rom's room into a greenhouse, but he would love to hide there for a few days and just feel safe with her in the kitchen, humming as she cooked. Maybe if he asked nicely she'd take off those ridiculous clothes and he could feel comfortable around her again.

And then he realized why Rom wanted him to leave. "Wait. You're going to declare me financially incompetent and take over the bar!"

Rom looked embarrassed. "It might be for the best. You need help. You aren't well."

"I know I'm not well, but I'm not ready to get an allowance from my brother," Quark said, forgetting that for a couple of years Rom had been in that exact situation with him.

"I'd rather you go voluntarily," Rom said, "but if you get worse I'll force the issue legally. I'd rather have you angry at me and healing at home than dying slowly here."

"I'm not dying," Quark said. "I'll bounce back. I always do."

"You always do," Rom said. "Why don't you and Nog and I spend some time in the holodeck together? We still have that Jr. Trader program that Nog used to love. I can tweak it to be more age-appropriate for him. Remember how much fun we used to have teaching him how to apply the Rules of Acquisition after Prinadora left?"

"Those were good times," Quark said.

"And there will be good times again," Rom said. "I just know it."

Quark thought Rom sounded desperate. "I'm going to bed now," Quark said.

"Ok. In the morning I'll work on the program."

He couldn't sleep at all that night, and as he lay in bed reviewing his life, musing and examining every choice, every financial gain and loss he found himself making a tally as if he were the Grand Inquisitor. It tallied in his favor, right up until he added Sarafina into the mix, and then the loss side of the scale hit the floor with a loud thud.

 _There's no hope for me,_ he thought.

Quark liked to start his day about 5:30 Station Time, which was really just Bajoran Central Standard Time. He used the hour before the bar began serving breakfast to inspect the bar, do paperwork - whatever needed to be done before the day got busy.

When his alarm rang that morning he almost wanted to throw it against the wall, but he restrained himself. It was an old Nameday present from Rom, and he'd been very fond of it. Rom had gotten it from the temple, and it was an obsidian square that showed the time in glowing red letters. On the back it had an engraving that said, "Blessed by Hand at the Temple. Accept no Substitutions!"

How he'd failed Rom played on his mind. And Nog!

He pulled himself out of bed reluctantly. Even though he was glad to escape his long night of dark thoughts, he didn't want to face the day. He'd have to try to convince Rom that everything was ok, and then he'd have to deal with the root-beer guzzling, clueless human crowd that loved his place. It was Bashir and O'Brian's darts night, so he'd have to deal with them.

Setting the issue with Sarafina aside, Bashir wasn't hard to deal with, although he was so annoyingly naive about other races Quark occasionally wanted to either punch him or educate him.

O'Brian was a burr in his shoe. He spent a lot of time, and therefore money, in the bar so Quark stocked his favorite beer and had even let him put up that ridiculous dart board. But O'Brian loved to needle him.

 _Barkeep_ , Quark thought with disgust. It was low. It described a man with a dead-end job and no ambitions to rise higher.

 _That's how the hew-mons view me_ , he thought. _I'll show them. I'll own my own moon yet_.

The thought didn't give him the lift and strength he usually found in it. He had lost the deal of a lifetime, one that would have netted him enough profit to buy his moon and allow him to buy Nog entrance to a good internship someday. He couldn't count on Rom doing it.

 _I failed Nog_ , he thought.

When he walked into the bar it was silent and dark, illuminated only by the blue glow of the emergency lights. Even in the dark he could see that things looked in order, or at least orderly. The dark silhouettes of tables and chairs stood out, a solid measure of his success - or lack thereof.

He turned on the lights, and all the old sights greeted him. Usually familiar, the sparkling decorations and brightly lit bar made him melancholy. He ached for a time before DS9, before Sarafina, before the marines. There was so much he'd never told anyone about his time there, and his experience on Genora wasn't the worst. It was the only time he'd failed so horribly, but the things he'd seen...

He shuddered and put those thoughts aside, as always. It didn't help to ponder on the atrocities of war.

The bar seemed shallow and pointless, a warrior spirit's grave. Quark turned the lights back off so he didn't have to look at it. He just wanted a respite, a little escape from the wreck his life had become overnight.

Dax had looked so beautiful deep in the ecstasy of the Altarian Water, and it occurred to Quark that he could have just a sip of Altarian water - enough to allow him a much needed break without intoxicating himself.

The cool wine storage room didn't appeal to him, but he couldn't very well take the Water out. Sometimes Rom came in early in the morning for breakfast on his day off, and Quark didn't want to have to explain himself. It wasn't like him to imbibe expensive liquors, and he'd bragged about his uneven trade for the Altarian Water so much that Rom would surely know the bottle by sight.

He produced a standard shot glass, at least for his bar. The markings were off just enough to cheat his customers out of about 1/8 of an ounce per shot, but there were no standards for him legally in that area. The Bajorans had tried to regulate his bar, but all they could enforce were safety issues, and that was only because they - or he suspected Odo - had decided that his bar's safety affected the entire station. Sisko enforced an occasional food safety inspection, which Quark always passed with flying colors.

He sat on the cold floor and leaned against the wall. As he pulled the cork from the water the insects began to stir, waking from their long sleep. He watched for a moment as they buzzed about, lighting the dark room with small blue lights.

He poured a shot. _Just enough,_ he thought. He wondered how much money he was wasting. When Dax had assumed it had cost a fortune she was only half right. It had cost a fortune for the previous owner, but Quark had gotten it as payment for a very high Dabo debt from a high-level official from some planet or other. He couldn't remember which one; it didn't matter. Quark had only had eyes for the delicate treasure he was acquiring.

He drank the shot, letting it flow over his tongue to savor it. He closed his eyes and waited for whatever sweet memory would temporarily blot out his current loss.

A bread and dried fruit taste filled his mouth, unpleasant and stale. There weren't any spices in it, and Quark knew the taste immediately. Romulan rations. It couldn't be anything else. Specifically the rations he'd eaten on Genora. The ones he'd shared with Sarafina.

A rank smell assaulted his nostrils, the burning rubber smell of buildings and the charnel, hideous smell of burnt flesh. Smells his own weapon had caused. He'd gone in after the first charge to clean up the survivors that might put up a fight, and one man with crazed eyes had attacked him, throwing a large stone and then charging at him with what looked like a kitchen knife. Quark shot him instinctively, and the Romulan weapon left a horrid, burning flesh smell that made him gag.

He opened his eyes and looked at the empty shot glass. _Why?_ he thought. _I can't even escape a bit? I couldn't have a nice childhood memory?_

He felt the grit on his skin and the dust that rose up everywhere, obscuring the sights and making the ruined city even more nightmarish with its orange glow. The destroyed city looked like skeletons were standing in it, the remnants of ruined business buildings that stuck up through the dust. They were too stubborn to fall, but too weak to stand much longer.

Quark didn't so much remember as see what happened next. He knew he was sitting on a cold floor on DS9, but he saw the scene before him as clearly as if it was happening at that very moment. The crunch as he stepped on broken glass and the sound of cackling fire were the only sounds until he heard the Romulans laughing in the direction of their meeting place. They had chosen to meet in an abandoned factory downtown. It had escaped enough damage to be useful as a temporary headquarters.

"I only found one civilian left alive," Quark said. "I neutralized him." As he pushed open the door he smelled something he hadn't expected. There was a distinct tang of Genoran blood on the air, and the Romulans laughed from the next room.

"Come in here," one yelled. "We found some Genorans who are holding back vital information."

Quark wondered why this was followed by raucous laughter. He felt a chill run through him. He'd never been witness to torture, and he didn't want to be, but if his employers had to get information from a warrior that could affect their mission it wasn't for him to stop them.

He felt nauseous, and he couldn't force himself to enter the room. _I don't want to see this,_ he thought. _Maybe if I stay out here they'll forget me while they work in there._

"Quark!" their leader yelled. "Get in here!"

He complied, dreading what he'd have to witness. When he stepped into the room it was as if time stopped, as if the moment stretched on into eternity. Quark knew he was sitting on the floor behind his own bar. He knew what he was seeing was long past, but the carnage was in front of him, and it was as real as the first time he had experienced it.

Children lay in front of him, their little eyes open in death, and horror and pain on their faces. The Romulans had dropped them around the room wherever they had finished with them, with no dignity left to them. Quark's entire body felt cold and numb, and he starred, repulsed but unable to turn away.

 _Why did they cut their feet so much?_ he wondered. They had obviously been killed with disruptor blasts, but first the Romulans had tortured them. _Why?_

He heard a high-pitched female scream, and it took a moment for it to register to his shocked brain that the scream was coming from a table only 10 feet away from him, from a young girl who was struggling with a Romulan. The Romulan outweighed her by at least a couple hundred pounds, but he let the girl struggle as if she could free herself, laughing all the time at his joke.

"Stop!" Quark said.

"Oh, get over it kid," the Romulan snapped at Quark. He tossed a knife down before Quark's feet. "You have to grow up and be a man sometime. It might as well be now. You kill her."

Calm flowed over him, a complete and total lack of emotion. Every bit of the scene stood out in its original detail, the broad shouldered Romulan, hovering over him, smirking with a superior look to his sharp featured face. Quark saw the knife, bloody and waiting, and he saw the child's eyes. It was what had finally moved him to act, to break out of the trance he'd been in since he walked into the room. She didn't plead for help. He could tell she was beyond that, but she looked so sad, so terrified.

Something inside him snapped. He could still feel it, years later in DS9, that horrifying loss of control as he picked up the knife and studied it. "You're right," he said to the Romulan. "It is time for me to grow up and be a man."

Quark was fast, and before the Romulans could react he had pulled the disruptor from his pocket and felled the three of them. Then he saw hope in those little eyes, and suddenly the world revolved around getting that child to safety. She was his only hope, the only thing that kept him going, because she was the only one in the entire universe who needed him, and he needed something to keep him moving. He'd killed his employers, and he could only imagine what would happen to him when the Romulans found out.

He should have disposed of the bodies somehow, but he panicked. Again he acted without thinking, and he grabbed the child and ran, stumbling over broken pavement until he found a safer place to hide and try to gather his wits about him.

"It's going to be ok," he told the girl."We're going to get out of this. I promise."

In response she whimpered and put her head against his chest. He pulled a medical kit out of his backpack and began to treat her feet.

The scene faded, and Quark found himself on the floor of his own wine cellar. He was gasping for air and sobbing, but he felt a release.

 _I did it because I'm not a monster,_ he thought. It wasn't about his beliefs, or some inner sin. It was simply because when faced with the opportunity to choose between doing something that cost him financially or gaining profit at the cost of his soul, he'd chosen his soul. It wasn't just Sarafina that he'd saved that day. It was himself.

The bottle of Altarian Water sat before him, neatly corked and ready for the next experience of a luckier person than him.

"Thank you," he whispered to the insects in the bottle. "You knew exactly what I needed, didn't you?"

He returned the bottle reverently, and as he looked at his watch he realized it had only been a few minutes since he'd drunk the Water. Those hours of mental torture had passed in almost no time!

He felt shaken, but centered somehow, as if a most important question had finally been answered. Did it erase his sin? Probably not, but the Great Inquisitor might find in his favor. He wasn't charitable, that overhyped and misused hew-mon word for those who didn't know their own selves well enough to know that they were hurting the very people they thought they were helping. Rom would be glad to hear it, and hopefully this would be the last of his problems - at least in that area.

The ship shuddered and moved violently underneath him, a great lurching movement that threw him against the wall and onto the floor again.

 _What the hell?_ he wondered.

He stood and tried to reenter the bar, but he couldn't push the door open. Something seemed to be blocking it, so he went to the back entrance that lead to a utility corridor that only trades people used, and generally only for unloading freight.

The corridor was dark, and that immediately tipped him off that something was very wrong. Lights were dimmed on the station at night, but there was no blue glow from the night lighting. It was the black darkness of a power failure.

The station lurched again, but this time he managed to keep his balance by leaning against a wall. As the station shuddered in the opposite direction he fell against something warm, and he reached out to find an unresponsive body. He felt for a pulse, but found a sticky substance that he'd already thought he might encounter.

The lights came back on, flickering and unsteady, and Quark saw that he'd fallen next to a young Genoran male, and that the half of his head that was left uncrushed was completely uninjured, staring at him with the solemn accusation of the dead. Quark scuttled away from the body against the wall, but there were other bodies in the corridor. Genoran bodies.

 _Why would Genoarns be here?_ he wondered. _This isn't real,_ he thought.

The thought faded when the station lurched again, and this time it didn't right itself as it should have.

 _They hit the anti-gravity control center,_ he thought. Any chance that it might be some sort of dream left his mind as one thought dominated him. _I have to get to Rom and Nog._

He began to move down the passageway, leaning on the wall for support as the uneven gravity made progression difficult. It didn't occur to him that all of the bodies were Genoran, or that it was extremely unlikely for him to have lived when everyone around him had died. He simply set his mind towards his family and grimly made his way toward them.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch 10

Outside the bar a Dabo girl tapped her foot impatiently with her hands on her hips. O'Brian and a Bajoran waited as well.

"It isn't like the boss to be late," the Dabo girl said. "I left my boy's schoolwork in my locker last night, and I need to get it."

O'Brian put his face up to the window, straining to see inside to no avail. "It looks deserted."

Dr. Bashir joined them. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Don't know," O'Brian said. "Quark isn't here."

"Now that is strange," Bashir said. "As oddly as he's been acting lately I hope this isn't serious. I can't imagine him risking losing profit over anything."

"I'm just about to go on shift," O'Brian said. "I need my breakfast."

"And the other breakfast customers will start showing up soon," the Dabo girl said. "They always do."

"Something about this isn't right," Bashir said. "Do you know where Rom's quarters are?"

"I do," the Dabo girl said. "You know where the lower residential district is, right?"

Bashir wondered why she would call an area on a station a district, but Dabo girls weren't known for their intelligence.

"I do," he said.

"He lives on Corridor 11. The one near the recycling station."

Bashir knew where she meant. The section stunk from the recycling, and no one took a place there that could afford better. The constant garbage scent kept anyone away who could afford anything better.

 _Quark could at least pay him more than that,_ Bashir thought. It wasn't a good place to live, and the residents were shady. He'd treated more than a few stab wounds inflicted there, and he found that he had more respect for Rom having to raise Nog there. Nog was a lot of things, but he wasn't a criminal.

"I'm going to go find Rom," Bashir said. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

"I don't' have time to wait," O'Brian said. "I'll have to get something from the replicator." He made a face as he said it. "One of these days I'll find out why everything has such an oily taste and fix it," he said.

As few people ate from the replicators as possible, with most preferring to either eat from their own stored dry goods until later in the day, or on Bajor if possible. "This place needs a decent donut shop," O'Brian grumbled before he left.

Bashir wasn't listening. Instead he was listing in his mind all the odd ways Quark's behavior had changed since he'd returned to the station with a concussion. He hadn't even asked after the status of the skin graft that Bashir was growing for him, and considering his vanity that was surprising. He had at least expected to have to barter with Quark over the price.

He wasn't surprised that Quark was flirting with Dax. That was normal for him, but to offer her an expensive beverage at no price? It was so unlike him that Bashir wondered if he could have missed some subtle brain trauma from the concussion.

"I'll go with you," the Dabo girl offered, and she batted her eyes at him. She was homely for human standards, a race Bashir was only vaguely familiar with. She had oddly small eyes and reptilian scales – definitely not his type.

"You should stay here in case he returns," Bashir said.

She looked disappointed, but she didn't follow him. Just as he left the commercial area his com badge beeped. "Odo to Dr. Bashir."

"Yes?" Bashir asked.

"We have a medical emergency in Access Corridor 5B. Do you know how to get here?"

Bashir searched his almost flawless memory to no avail. "I don't remember it."

"Where are you?" Odo asked.

"I'm just leaving Quark's bar," Bashir said. "He isn't here, and it's so unlike him I'm concerned for his health."

"That would be because he's here," Odo said, "and he's in significant distress."

"Did you injure him?" Bashir asked. He went to the information board and typed in Access Corridor 5B and saw that it was nearby. The corridor was behind the bar and led toward the docks. He headed that way.

"Yes," Odo said. "It wasn't easy either. He put up quite a fight."

"Did I just hear you correctly?" Bashir asked. "Did you say Quark tried to fight you?"

Bashir reached the turn where the map had showed a connection between his way and the Access Corridor. A wall stood in the way. _They need to update that map,_ he thought.

"He said the station was under attack and he had to make sure Rom and Nog were safe. My attempts to correct his assumptions failed."

"So he attacked you?" Bashir asked.

"He didn't exactly attack me," Odo said. "He had a phaser out, and I couldn't let him wander around the station in a delusional state of mind with a weapon drawn and ready. I had to subdue him. He knows who I am, but he's convinced that I'm stopping him from getting to his family."

"The map is out of date, and the way it said to go is obstructed," Bashir said. "I'll have to find another route. Describe his injuries."

"Only a broken arm," Odo said. "I tapped his fourth vertebrate, and he went down like a ton of bricks. Feringhee have that little place back there where they're vulnerable. He broke the arm when he fell."

"I don't hear him," Bashir said. "An injured Feringhee makes a lot of noise."

"Don't I know it," Odo said. "I put something in his mouth to shut him up."

"Odo!" Bashir said. "You do not treat an injured man like that! Take it out immediately. He might tell you something that could help me diagnose him."

"I'll take the gag out when you get here," Odo said. "The noise was giving me a headache."

"I know you can't get headaches, Odo," Bashir said. "I also know how much you dislike Quark, but practice some compassion. He's obviously ill."

"That's why I called you instead of simply arresting him. I do suggest you hurry. He's a bad shade of beige right now, much lighter than his normal color."

"Are you restraining him by his injured arm?" Bashir asked.

"He's still struggling," Odo said. "I have no choice."

The next passageway was blocked as well, this time by a small store that wasn't even on the map. It was a new place that sold Bajoran crafts, and it was open. Bashir walked in and took the place in. It smelled like flowers and had some hand-woven things that old women would find attractive. An elderly Bajoran woman smiled at him from behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"This is going to sound odd, but does this store have a back entrance?"

"Young man, I won't put up with foolishness in my store," she said. "I don't want to have to ask you to leave, but that entrance is for employees only."

"There's an Access Corridor back there, and I need to get through to it," Bashir said. "The ways that I know of are blocked, and I was hoping I could get through here. There's an injured man in the corridor."

"Why didn't you say so?" she asked, and she led him through a cluttered, musty smelling backroom to a door. "Shouldn't you call a doctor for him?"

"I am one," Bashir said. "Thank you for your help."

The corridor was dingy, even by DS9 standards, but it was also empty for as far as Bashir could see. It curved with the shape of the station, and Bashir could only assume that Quark and Odo were out of sight.

"Bashir to Odo. I'm in the Corridor, but I don't know which way to go."

"I'm down here!" he heard Odo yell, his voice echoing down the Corridor. Bashir ran, hoping Odo hadn't injured Quark badly. Quark had enough damage to his head recently without any more problems, and Bashir didn't relish the idea of dealing with Feringhee. They were the most temperamental, complaining, whiny patients he'd ever dealt with.

He stopped when he turned the corner and saw what Odo had transformed himself into. He didn't like snakes, at all. When he was a child he'd seen a few cobras, and they always terrified him when they raised themselves and spread their hoods. One of them was within striking distance when he was younger, and it was only his mother's quick aim with a stone that drew the Cobra's attention toward her so she could distract it. He really wished they weren't a protected species.

He also wished Odo hadn't chosen that exact form, with the exception of a humanoid mouth. He was wrapped around Quark, covering his face up to his nose, showing eyes that were alert and furious.

"Would you come here?" Odo demanded testily. "This is a hard shape to keep."

"That's a disturbing transformation," Bashir said. "Drop it so I can look at him."

Odo let Quark go, and Quark immediately grabbed his left arm with his other hand. Bashir could see where the arm was broken and hung limply at an odd angle.

Quark stood, but he leaned against the wall as if to keep himself from falling. "I'm warning you Odo, if you stand between me and my family I'll kill you! "

Odo transformed back into his humanoid form, held up a small phaser, and dangled it in front of Quark. "With what?" he asked.

"Stop teasing him!" Bashir said. "He's injured."

"Why are you two bothering with me anyway?" Quark asked. "You should be seeing if any of these people are alive!" He waved his hand as if to encompass the area around them.

"There's no one here," Odo said.

Bashir held a hand up toward Odo. "Hush."

Odo grumbled at the indignity of being hushed, but did as he was told.

"Quark, what do you see?"

"What do you mean what do I see? The same things you see. Why aren't you helping these people?"

"So you see people that need my help," Bashir said. He kept a calm, neutral voice.

"Are you blind?" Quark asked. "Were your eyes injured when we were hit?"

"We haven't been..." Odo started, but he stopped when the angry look from Bashir reminded him that the doctor was now in charge of the situation.

"I know we don't know each other well," Bashir said, "but you must know by now that I take caring for the people on this station very seriously."

"Yes," Quark answered irritably.

"I've treated you before," Bashir said. "You know I'm trustworthy, don't you?"

"As much as any hew-mon is," Quark said.

"I'll take what I can get," Bashir said. "Look at how we're standing. If there was something wrong with the anti-gravity generator we'd be falling too."

"That's true," Quark said. He looked around at the bodies sprawled about. "But I see the corpses. I smell the burning flesh."

Bashir stepped towards Quark, but Odo put his hand out against his chest. "I insist that you treat this with at least a little regard for your own safety."

"You don't want to hurt me, do you?" Bashir asked Quark.

"Of course not!" Quark said. "I just want to get to my family!"

"If you'll come with me I'll bring Rom to you. Would that work?"

"Not if he's dead!"

Bashir stepped close to Quark, ready to defend himself if need be. The first thing he noticed was that Quark's pupils were extremely dilated.

"Have you been doing illicit drugs?" Bashir asked.

"No. What? Where are these ridiculous questions coming from?"

Quark fell again, and Bashir offered a hand to help him stand. Quark leaned against the wall again. "How are you upright?" he asked.

"Because what you're experiencing is a hallucination," Bashir said.

"I suppose it must be," Quark said, "but it's so real."

"No, it's just very persistent. What were you doing before this happened?"

Quark glanced at Odo.

"Odo, I need you to leave," Bashir said. "I can take it from here."

"I'm not sure you could handle him alone," Odo said. "He landed a few good hits on me, and if I was a solid they might have killed me."

"That's right," Quark said, "and don't you forget it."

"Who ended up bound and gagged?" Odo asked.

"Enough!" Bashir said.

Odo left, and Bashir saw how Quark relaxed.

"He really does get to you, doesn't he?" Bashir asked.

"Is it that obvious?"

"It is, yes. Are you still seeing the corpses?"

"As clearly as ever," Quark said.

"Do you accept that what you're seeing isn't real?"

"It only makes sense," Quark said, "but I can't shake it."

"Did you ingest any sort of chemicals before this happened?"

"I had a shot of Alterian Water," Quark said. "I was curious after watching Dax's reaction."

"Just one shot?" Bashir asked. "I need you to be honest with me."

"Yes," Quark said, "but it went badly. The memories it brought me were from a time in my life that was, well, traumatic."

"Did it have to do with the planet Sarafina came from?"

"How did you know?"

"I guessed. A lot has changed since you came back from there. I'd like you to tell me what happened there. I feel like you kept back important information from me, and I want to help you. For the moment I just want to get you to a safe place so I can treat you. What I want you to do is to close your eyes, take my arm, and let me guide you to sick bay. That way you won't have to see any dead bodies."

"That's a lot to ask."

"Do you think you can make your way there yourself?"

Quark looked at the corpses. If they were hallucinations he would have to walk right through them. "No," he said.

"Then take my arm or I'll have to send for a stretcher. I want to take you voluntarily, but you did pull a weapon and fight Odo, even if he started it."

Quark closed his eyes and took Bashir's arm, and they walked along the corridor slowly, with Quark moving as unsteadily as an old woman. "It still feels like the floor is slanted," he said.

"It isn't," Bashir said. "Is there another way out of here besides through your bar? One of your girls is there, and unless you want to deal with her right now I'd find another way out."

"If you keep going on for about a quarter mile it comes out near the docks," Quark said.

"It's in the right direction, at least," Bashir said.

They hadn't moved far when Quark fell heavily again, and this time he had more difficulty getting up. He had opened his eyes when he fell, and Bashir watched closely as Quark looked about him. His breathing quickened, and Bashir saw raw fear on his face.

"There's nothing there but a wall," Bashir said. "Close your eyes."

Quark did, but as Bashir let him take his arm again, he felt the smaller man trembling. "Be still a moment," he said. He checked Quark's pulse, which was fast, even for Feringhee.

"Take a few deep breaths," Bashir said. Quark continued breathing heavily.

"Match my breathing," Bashir said. He took a large breath, and Quark took one as well. When he exhaled Quark matched him. After several breaths he was breathing more normally, and the trembling had stopped.

"I know you're afraid," Bashir said. "I'd be afraid in your situation. Just trust me and I'll get you to a safe place. You want that, don't you?"

"More than you can ever know," Quark said.

Bashir heard exhaustion in his voice. "Do you want to rest here a bit before we move on?"

"No," Quark said. "The sooner we get to sick bay the sooner you can find out what's wrong with me."

They moved slowly, and when they left the corridor they came into the loading area of the docks. It wasn't being used much, as most freight came in the middle of the night, but they still passed workers who gave them curious looks. Bashir ignored them. It looked like Quark had hurt his eyes and Bashir was helping him to sick bay. If they wanted to assume that then it was all the better for Quark.

He ignored curious glances and stares as they walked, and he focused on Quark. When they finally reached sick-bay he had another problem. As Quark tried to climb onto the medical bed it was obvious that he still felt like the station was tilted at a 45 degree angle.

"I'm going to have to restrain you to keep you on the bed," Bashir said.

"No!" Quark said. "Absolutely not."

"I'm not going to do anything to your arms and legs. I'm just going to put the monitor over you, and I'll tighten it down a bit, just enough to hold you still."

Quark allowed him to help him onto the bed and tighten the monitor over him. _That is one persistent delusion,_ Bashir thought. Quark hadn't opened his eyes at all since he'd fallen.

"Tell me more about the events that lead up to this," Bashir said. "I'm going to take a blood sample while we talk."

"I had a falling out with a friend yesterday," Quark said, "probably permanently. It cost me a lot of money too, more money than I might ever see in my life."

"I can see how that would be distressing," Bashir said.

"I was up all night thinking about it," Quark said, "and this morning I just couldn't face another day. Everything seemed so pointless. I remembered how happy Dax had been when she drank the Altarian Water, and I thought a small drink might help. It didn't.

"When did the hallucinations start?" Bashir asked. He wasn't sure if Quark knew the answer, but he hoped that he'd get some useful information.

"The Water didn't do what I expected," Quark said. "When I was in the Merchant Marines I saw some bad things, and one of the worst of them came back to me. It's something I never even told Rom about, and I used to tell him everything."

"Do you think it might be time to talk to someone about it?" Bashir asked. "It seems like it isn't going away."

"No," Quark said. "I don't think it is. I got as far away from the military as I could, and I'm still affected by it."

Bashir took a blood sample, and when he pricked Quark, Quark said, "ow! Stop that!"

 _He was in the Merchant Marines?_ Bashir thought. Something told him Quark wasn't lying. He took out a tool and began a diagnostic on Quark's arm.

"Have you ever seen a dead child?" Quark asked.

Bashir almost dropped the tool when Quark asked that. "Yes," he said. "I lost a five year old patient once. She was barely alive when they brought her in. Head wound from falling in a play area. It still gives me nightmares."

"Can you imagine a room full of them?" Quark asked. His voice had sunk, and Bashir leaned closer to hear him.

"No," he said. "I can't imagine it, but it must have been horrible."

"That's what I saw when I drank the Water, the memory I had to relive again in all its original detail. Those Romulans tortured the children for no reason other than their own twisted pleasure. I couldn't believe it the first time I saw it, and it's still hard for me to understand why anyone would want to do that. What profit could there possibly be in torturing children?"

Quark's voice broke, and with it the tears came. He put an arm across his face. "What use is it if I couldn't use any of my skills to help those children? All the latinum in the universe couldn't reverse what happened to those children. It's all a lie. The profit motive is a lie. The Grand Inquisitor probably doesn't even exist."

Bashir was silent for a few moments while he tried to think of the right thing to say. "Your people built a powerful civilization on the Rules of Acquisition and the ideas around it. There must be some truth in there." It wasn't something he could really believe, but he wanted to say anything to give Quark hope, to pull him back from the precipice he was approaching.

"Rom thinks I'm a heretic," Quark said. "He's worried that I'll corrupt Nog with my ideas. I think he might be right. I don't know any more. I just don't know."

"You seem depressed," Bashir said. "I want to check again for brain damage from the concussion. It sounds like being with Sarafina brought back traumatic memories, and you might be dealing with things that you've repressed."

He read the diagnostic. "Well, the good news is that the arm had a clean break, so it should heal quickly. The bad news is that when I set it it's going to hurt a lot."

"Isn't there another way?" Quark asked.

"No," Bashir said. "For someone who was military you have a low tolerance for pain."

"That's different," Quark said. "I didn't know what was about to happen there, and I was so focused on surviving that..."

Bashir quickly wrapped the special cast around Quark's arm that would cause the bone to set and begin to knit. He heard a distinct crunch as Quark's bone was rearranged.

Quark arched his back and screamed his eyes wide. He kicked and thrashed and made those high-pitched Feringhee sounds that they all made when injured. Bashir waited patiently until he calmed and lay panting on the table.

"That was the worst of it," Bashir said.

"Sadist," Quark snapped.

"No more than necessary," Bashir said. "Pain can't always be avoided, but I can give you some medication to help with it. I need to make sure the Water is out of your system. What do you see?"

"Just sick bay," Quark said, "like it always looks."

Bashir looked into his eyes. "Your pupils have shrunk to a more normal size," he said. "Do you still feel like the room is slanted?"

"No," Quark said. "I don't know when it stopped, but everything seems normal now."

"Being forced to lie still might have helped. I'm going to loosen the monitor," Bashir said, "but I want you to stay here until I can find out what happened."

"Odo should be back soon," Quark said. "He won't miss this opportunity."

"That isn't your concern," Bashir said. "We should be focusing on diagnosis and treatment, not Odo."

"You say that now," Quark said. "He'll complicate things. You'll see."

Bashir couldn't disagree with him. He'd never seen Odo treat an injured, ill man like that, but he suspected that Odo and Quark didn't realize how odd their relationship was. They occasionally seemed like two old, bickering sisters to Bashir. He usually found it amusing, but not when it interfered with his patient's progress.

"I'll take care of Odo," Bashir said. "This one time only," he added quickly in case Quark wanted to make any presumptions in the future. Bashir had found that dealing with Quark was a bit like dealing with a five year old child, in that he would remember every spoken word that could be troublesome and use it against someone.

He watched Quark carefully, looking for signs of abnormality or mental deterioration. "Do you know that you've been behaving uncharacteristically since you returned from Genora?"

Quark's eyes narrowed. "Why?" he asked. "What did Sarafina tell you?"

"I take it that she has something to do with your recent personality changes," Bashir said.

"That isn't something I want to talk about," Quark said.

"That's your decision to make, but you obviously need treatment for more than a simple allergic or racial reaction to Altarian Water. I'm not a psychologist, but I'll try to help, or at least get you to the right person that can help you. What you told me sounds like PTSD and depression. Neither of those should be ignored."

Quark looked at Dr. Bashir for several long seconds, and Bashir thought he was probably weighing the risk of trusting him with extremely sensitive information versus how much pain he was in emotionally.

"How much would it cost to buy complete confidentiality from you?" Quark asked.

"I don't think I heard you right," Bashir said. "I couldn't have."

"Ok, odd negotiating tactic, but I can work with it. I can lay my hands on a bar of gold-pressed latinum. It's worth that much to me, and it's the going rate on Faringar."

"Quark, you don't understand," Bashir said.

"Then what do you want?" Quark asked.

"Human doctors don't work like that. Confidentiality is part of the job."

"Now you're just messing with me," Quark said. "We've never talked about it before, because I never had to worry about what I told you getting around the station, mostly because I've never told you much."

"And I take it that what you need to tell me would compromise you if it got out?" Bashir asked. "I can't accept bribes. It isn't allowed."

"I can't confide in you then," Quark said. "I've lived this long with this problem. I can make do."

"That's one option," Bashir said, "but I doubt Sisko will simply let you return to the bar as if life was normal after you pulled a weapon on Odo and attacked him."

"It wasn't like that," Quark said. "I thought the ship was under attack, and I couldn't let him stop me from getting to my family. I'd do it again, too."

"Rom and Nog really do mean the world to you, don't they?" Bashir asked.

"Of course they do," Quark said.

"And you wouldn't want to hurt them, would you?" Bashir asked.

"I don't know what you're suggesting, but I've never wanted to hurt them, not seriously anyway. There were a few times I'd like to have knocked Rom's head off a wall, but that's normal for brothers."

"I'm sure it is," Bashir said. "My brother and I fought all the time when we were younger. You could hurt your family if you don't accept some help. Not physically, but financially. If you get worse and can't run the bar anymore Rom would try to take over. You can imagine how well that would go."

"He'd do a good job," Quark said, but he couldn't even make it sound realistic to himself.

"And Nog needs you," Bashir said.

"I'm not going to let him down," Quark snapped. "What are you getting at?"

"When your machinery breaks do you fix it or do you keep trying to use it while it's broken? You fix it, of course. If you don't fix this you'll be using broken machinery."

"You're too smart for your own good," Quark said.

"I've been told that before," Bashir said. "Your pupils have returned to normal, and you seem to be aware of your environment. Now that the reaction has run its course I can let you leave, but I'd rather you stay here for a few hours for observation."

"Unhook this medical contraption and I'll leave," Quark said. "I've had enough of being observed, and I have no idea who's running my bar."

"If you must," Bashir said. "I'll keep what was said here confidential, at no charge," he said with a smile. "I hope you can come back so we can talk about what happened while you were in the Merchant Marines. It sounds like you haven't worked through it as much as you'd like to think, and to be honest it sounds quite interesting."

He unhooked the monitor and swung it upwards so that Quark could sit up.

"I can't help you with whatever Odo might charge you with, but I can testify if it comes to that. I would suggest you leave any other psychic experiments to races with more normal brain chemistry - those with two lobes instead of four. Betazoids can't even read Feringhee. You're just lucky this didn't turn out worse."

Quark stopped at the door and turned around. Bashir had already turned to a screen and was working on something new, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Dr. Bashir?" Quark said.

Bashir looked up.

"Thank you." As he turned to leave he collided with the broad chest of the station's Commander.

Sisko put a firm hand on Quark's shoulder. "I don't think so, Quark. Why don't you stay here and explain to me why you shouldn't be in a jail cell or on your way back to your rain soaked planet."

Odo stood behind Sisko with a maddeningly neutral expression, and Quark turned around and went back into the sick bay with a feeling of defeat, but working his mind to find all the excuses that would get him out of this situation.

"Dr. Bashir," Sisko said, his deep voice filling the room. "I want to know your professional opinion. What happened here?"

Bashir glanced at Quark, who looked worn and tired. "That's confidential," he said. "I can tell you that I don't think he's a danger to anyone but himself, and I don't think he's suicidal - just a bit self-destructive."

"Doctor, I order you to tell me what happened," Sisko said. Quark had the urge to sidle carefully away from the two of them and start running. They held eye contact entirely too long for humans, and he'd never seen that without trouble following soon after.

"I can't give out that information without consent from my patient."

Quark tried to fathom what the doctor was doing. _He'll want more money later. If he's showing me that he'll keep a bargain even in the face of a direct order he's a better negotiator than I ever gave him credit for._

"Report to my office after this is over," Sisko said. He turned to Quark. "What happened? I've heard Constable Odo's report, and I want to give you the chance to explain yourself before I make a decision."

"I had a bad reaction to a new liquor," Quark said. "It has a psychic component, and I should have known better than to use it. It turned out to be hallucinogenic for Feringhee. I thought the ship was under attack."

"And why did you attack the Constable?" Sisko asked.

"If someone tried to come between you and Jake while the station was under attack, what would you do?" Quark asked.

"Well said," Sisko allowed. "If this ever happens again we won't even discuss it. You'll be in jail faster than you can say "latinum". Doctor, my office, now."

Dr. Bashir left with Sisko, and Odo stayed, as Quark had thought he would. "Humph," Odo said. "That's quite a story. I think the only reason Commander Sisko isn't still questioning you is that he wants to question Dr. Bashir further. He's much more likely to get the truth out of him than you."

 _I wonder,_ Quart thought.

"Who did you think was attacking the station?" Odo asked.

"Changelings," Quark said. "It's happened before."

Odo cringed. Quark was sure he didn't like being reminded of what his own people were capable of.

"I expect you won't be serving this to anyone else."

"I doubt it. It's insanely expensive," Quark said, "and I only know of one person who's tried it."

"And who would that be?"

Quark almost wanted to tell him it was Dax, and that Dax had looked at him as if she might want to kiss him. He wanted to tell Odo that he had gotten further with Dax in days than Odo had gotten with Kira in years. He didn't though, because Odo was sneaky enough to get information out of Dax without her realizing it.

He'd never realized it before, but he knew beyond a certainty that Dax would never betray him.

"Well?" Odo asked.

"I don't see why it's any business of yours. There weren't any ill effects."

"I can investigate, or you can tell me," Odo said.

Quark sighed dramatically. "Fine. It was Morn. He likes trying new liquors, and I poured him some Altarian Water. Have you ever heard of it?"

Odo shook his head.

"It gives memories, and makes a person see, feel, smell, and hear everything associated with that memory. He had a nice little walk down memory lane, met an old girlfriend all over again in his mind, ate some treat that his mother used to make, and came back down. No harm done."

"I see. And if I question Morn he'll tell me the same thing happened to him."

"Be my guest," Quark said. He knew from past experience that if Odo tried to question Morn he would simply stand up and walk away. Since he wasn't a Federation or Bajoran citizen Odo had no jurisdiction over him without hard evidence.

"Unless you plan to arrest me we're done here," Quark said. "I can get Dr. Bashir to testify that I was under the influence of a hallucinogenic substance. He took a blood sample."

"We're not quite done here," Odo said. "There's the small matter of an illegal weapon."

"Was that illegal?" Quark asked. "I was told that if they were under a certain size there wasn't a problem."

"There will still be a fine - a _substantial_ fine," Odo said.

That hit home. "I'll fight it," Quark said. "You can't prove I knew it was illegal."

"Ignorance of the law isn't any excuse for breaking it," Odo said. He pulled out a small data-pad, and when he handed it to Quark, Quark squeaked at the number on the pad.

"You can't be serious!" Quark said. "That's a full day's worth of profits from the bar!"

"Then that should be enough incentive to keep you from "forgetting" the laws again," Odo said.

Quark looked at the data-pad again and gulped.

" _Now_ you can go back to your seedy bar and water your drinks," Odo said.

 _I'll pay you back for this,_ Quark thought. _No one takes a full day of profit from me and gets away with it._

As he hurried back to his bar he went over the conversation with Bashir in his head. _He doesn't know anything that could get me in trouble if he talks to Sisko._

At least he didn't have one problem to worry about any more. He hadn't been a disgusting, charitable failure. He had just been reacting to shock, and his impulse had been to stop the horrible display of violence against children. That wasn't charitable. It was basic survival. In one moment he had been presented with the choice to become a monster or kill the monsters, and he was sure he'd made the right choice.


	11. Chapter 11

Ch 11

It was well into the small breakfast rush that Quark's bar faced almost every morning. Only the Federation employees had enough money - or "credits" - to indulge in such a meal on a regular basis. Most other people contented themselves with ration bars or replicated "food" if they were particularly unlucky. A few of the wealthier Bajorans on the stations frequented the bar in the mornings, but they didn't order much, preferring to eat later in the day and generally wanting Rakajino.

Rom glanced up at him and scowled. "Where have you been?" he snapped. "We were an hour late opening, and I wouldn't have even known there was a problem except that Gina came to my quarters, complaining about something she left in her locker."

"I..." Quark couldn't think of a decent lie that wouldn't fool Rom. "I'm too tired to lie to you right now. Can you just take over for me today?"

"No," Rom said. "I have things I need to do."

"I don't think I can handle the bar right now," Quark said.

Rom looked at him closely for the first time. "You look bad. What's going on?"

"I had an allergic reaction to a drink - or some kind of reaction. I've been in sick bay. I've been questioned by Bashir, Sisko, and Odo, and I have a feeling I'm going to have to answer more questions before this is finished. I just want to lie down and quit answering questions."

"It will cost you," Rom said.

The amount of the fine passed through Quark's head. "Never mind then. I'll handle it. Go do whatever you need to do."

Quark reached for a glass, but his hand shook, and he hid the glass almost in time to stop Rom from seeing.

"I just remembered that I have to do those things tomorrow, not today," Rom said. "I might as well stay here."

It was bad business, and usually Quark would have taken the opportunity to lecture Rom, but he didn't want to deal with it. "I'll be back after a while," he said.

"Take your time," Rom said.

He slept almost immediately, and his dreams were surprisingly pleasant. In them Rom was a cut-throat manager of a chain of Clothing Outlets on Quark's Casino Pleasure Moon. He woke right after seeing Dax in a Dabo girl outfit with those intriguing spots running down her body, teasing him with possibilities.

He felt better than before, cleaner somehow. It was as if telling Bashir even the small amount he'd said helped. Of course, he hadn't really fixed anything, but it didn't matter. He could handle it. He always had.

Bashir would tell Sisko everything, of course. Quark didn't even doubt it after some serious thought. He'd never actually given Bashir any money, so it wasn't technically betrayal. He didn't understand why Bashir had held out so long, but Sisko was intimidating, and he had leverage on Bashir. That was one of the many things Quark didn't miss about the military - the constant reminder that someone else pulled the strings.

"I'll take over," Quark said to Rom.

"You look better," Rom said. "Commander Sisko was here looking for you earlier. I told him you said you were going to the docks to check on a shipment."

"You covered for me?" Quark asked.

"I'll send you a bill," Rom said. "Commander Sisko said he wanted to know if you were well. I told him you seemed fine. What did happen Quark? You've never had a reaction to any liquor before."

Quark started to tell his brother a lie. It was almost instinct by now, lying to him to protect him, but he felt alone when he considered it, an island in his own mind.

"Rom, we never talked about what happened in the Merchant Marines, did we?"

"You wouldn't," Rom said. "I tried, remember? Moogie tried. You just worked and hid in your room until you moved out, and then you seemed normal again."

"What would you say if I told you that I had a flashback earlier, that I never got over what I saw when I was younger?"

"I would say that it's about time we talked," Rom said, "and that you probably need some professional help."

"I'm considering that," Quark said. "Dr. Bashir is shrewder than I thought, but I think we can make a deal."

"What could have possibly been so bad?" Rom asked.

The bodies, the smells, the fear and despair all came back to him. "I don't know where to start," Quark said. "It was like being another person. And in the middle of it all was this little person who hurt as much as I did. I had to choose, and I chose not to kill a helpless child. It had nothing to do with profit - just trying to keep the part of me that was any kind of good person."

"Your soul?"

"I don't know what else you'd call it," Quark said.

"But what about Sarafina?" Rom asked.

"We're done," Quark said. "She's going to work with the Federation. I tried to warn her about them, but she'll have to find out for herself."

"Wow. You must have lost so much profit," Rom said.

"Thanks Rom. That's real helpful."

"What are you going to do about it?" Rom asked.

"Nothing," Quark said. "I'll have to find something new to work on. I wasted too much time on this, and I'm behind now. If I'm ever going to be able to bribe the Grand Inquisitor I'll have to work overtime."

"That's what I like to hear," Rom said. "Everything can be like before then."

"Not quite," Quark said. "I never would have gotten closer to Dax if it wasn't for this."

"Then you came out ahead," Rom said. "You didn't spend much on the project yet, and you have a powerful potential mate that you wouldn't have had, so you came out ahead."

"Rom, you are a genius," Quark said. "Dax has to more than balance the scales."

He took over the bar just as lunch business began to flow in. It was a busy day, something he was grateful for. As good as he felt about the outcome of recent events, he didn't want to think about them, and a busy night kept him too busy to think.

Of all his regulars, only O'Brian came in. Morn was absent, which did happen occasionally, but he'd hoped to see Dax.

"Where's your buddy?" Quark asked O'Brian. "Did he finally get tired of looking at you?"

"He's confined to quarters for something," O'Brian said. "He won't tell me why. I just know that he and Commander Sisko butted heads about something, and the doctor actually refused an order. Can you believe it? I'd love to know what that was all about."

"So would I," Quark said.

He shut down the bar at 2:00 am, as usual, and he slept a full, normal night. The next morning was Rom's early shift, so Quark went to sick bay to find Bashir. When he walked in, a cheerful female human computerized voice met him. "Welcome to sick bay," she stated. "The doctor is not available at the moment. If this is an emergency I will contact Dr. Bashir. Is this an emergency?"

"No," Quark said.

"Would you like me to contact a doctor on Bajor?" the computer asked in a cheerful voice.

"No."

"Please come back later," the computer said. "Thank you."

 _Just like a human computer to thank me when I haven't done anything for it. They should have used a Bajoran to make the voice - much less annoying. They would never sound like they were made of sugar syrup._

"Where are his quarters?" Quark asked. The computer gave him the location, in a high-class part of the ship, of course. Quark felt out of place there, as if all the people were watching him to make sure he wasn't going to rob them. _If I wanted to take their money they'd never even know by the time they were swindled._ On Faringar he would have melded into such company, but he saw an old lady clutch her bag to her.

Dr. Bashir answered the door with an open book in his hand. "Quark! I didn't expect to see you here. What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Quark asked. "I found out you were confined to quarters. Is this because of what happened yesterday?"

"I told you I would keep what you told me in confidence," Bashir said.

"We haven't really reached an agreement," Quark said. "I got this earlier." He pulled a bar of latinum from his pocket, and he tried to ignore its beautiful luster. "I want to make sure we have a proper understanding. We can put it in writing, if you want."

Bashir shook his head. "How long have you lived among humans? Don't you know anything about us?"

"I told you that isn't how we do things," Quark said. "I can't trust you unless you take a proper bribe."

"And if I take the bribe you'll work with me so I can help you with the PTSD?"

Quark nodded. "It's the only way."

Bashir took the bar from Quark and turned it over in his hands with a much less respectful look than Quark would have appreciated.

"It occurs to me that I owe you some money for some gaming I did some time ago."

"This is more than you owe," Quark said. "Normally that would be great, but I won't be in your debt, especially not now."

"Humans like to tip," Bashir said, and besides, I'm sure there's some interest by now."

Quark slid the bar into his pocket, happy to have gained it back for a few gambling debts.

"Is the only reason you're confined to quarters because you wouldn't tell Sisko what he wanted to know, because that's easy enough to fix."

"How so?"

"I give you permission to talk to him about anything we've said so far, but just up till now. If you go to him before I tell you anything else we haven't talked about anything that could harm me, and he'll probably let you off. He'll think he's won."

"Cynical," Bashir said.

"But it will work," Quark said.

Quark went back to the bar with a sense of sharpness about him, like a shark in fish-filled waters.

He stopped short of the bar and stepped behind a support structure so he could view the promenade out of sight. Three tall men in long white robes stood at one of the information stations, and Quark wondered for a second if he was somehow still feeling the effects of the Altarian Water.

They were Romulan! And on DS9. Quark gulped and began to sweat. _This can't be happening,_ he thought. _Somehow they know about Sarafina. I didn't cover my tracks enough. There's no telling how many spies might be on this station._

"Do you like what you see?" Odo asked behind him.

Quark jumped and squeaked. "Odo! Quit sneaking up on me."

"I see you watching our visitors. Leave them alone, Quark. They are distinguished Vulcan scientists and ambassadors on their way through. They're the first Vulcans to ever come here, and Commander Sisko told me to find you and expressly tell you to stay away from them. Vulcans don't tend to gamble, or indulge in any vices as far as I know, so you have nothing to gain from them."

"Vulcans?" Quark asked. "Here? They're a long way from home aren't they?"

Odo shrugged. "I'm not privy to their plans. And you don't need to be either."

"I need to get back to work anyway," Quark said.

"If you call that work," Odo said.

"Some of us have to do more than sneak around behind innocent businessmen," Quark said.

He got a typical Odo "Harrumph".

He took a long look at the Vulcans. They did look different from Romulans now that he knew what to look for. They carried themselves differently, with a natural dignity and grace that almost made them seem ethereal. Every Romulan Quark had ever seen radiated an intensity that had earned them an empire.

It seemed as if life was slowly returning to normal, and he was going through attractive business prospects in his mind when Sarafina walked in, thankfully alone, but it was still awkward.

They chatted, each of them trying to recapture something that was lost between them, and Quark was as relieved when she left as she was.

"So you two are on the outs then?" Nog asked when she left.

"When did you get here?" Quark asked.

"I've been here," Nog said. "You just don't notice me when there are pretty women around?"

"You think she's pretty?" Quark asked. _He should probably be around Feringhee women more._

"I guess," Nog said.

"I haven't spent much time with you lately," Quark said. "I've been really busy. Do you want me to teach you some card tricks later?"

That brightened Nog's mood immediately. "For real? I love card tricks!"

"Yes, but don't say "for real". You got that from Jake, didn't you?"

"Don't start on Jake again," Nog said. "It isn't like there are any Feringhee my age to spend time with, and he's my best friend."

"We should go down to the holodeck sometime," Quark said.

"I could teach you how to play baseball," Nog said. "Jake taught me."

"Um, sure. We'll try it," Quark said. He didn't have much hope for anything that Jake had taught Nog, but he wanted to connect with him, so he'd explore.

"Look Uncle, Vulcans!" Rom said. "I never thought I'd actually see one."

For a moment Quark was irritated with Nog for recognizing the Vulcans when he hadn't. _He's growing up fast. Next thing I know he'll be running the bar._

It was a single Vulcan. Quark didn't know which one. They looked alike to him, but so did Romulans. He'd had to tell them apart by scars and bloodstains.

"Can I help you?" Quark asked. For some reason he felt like he needed to use his best manners.

"I understand a person can buy provisions from you?" the Vulcan asked. "We need food, water, and a few components for our ship. We didn't expect to come this way, and we find ourselves unprepared."

"I'll be glad to," Quark said.

The Vulcan handed him a list, and his arms disappeared back into his the loose sleeves of his robe. Quark looked the simple list over and quoted him a much higher price than usual.

"I believe market prices are much less than that," the Vulcan said.

They began a negotiation that left Quark feeling like he had definitely come out on the short side of it, with Nog watching the entire time.

"I'll have this for you in two to four days," Quark said. "A couple of these parts will have to be ordered from Bajor, and one will have to be made from scratch."

"That will suffice," the Vulcan said.

"What name should it be under?" Quark asked.

"Radak will do," the Vulcan said, and left.

"Wow," Nog said. "Jake's never going to believe this. He really got the best of you, didn't he?"

"Of course not," Quark said. "It's a ploy to get future business."

"That's great!" Nog said. "I want to be here next time. I want to see what you're going to do to make profit off of one of the smartest races in the galaxy."

If it had been anyone but Nog, Quark would have thought that he was being sarcastic, but as he looked down into Nog's eager face he saw only a child impressed by his uncle. He only hoped he could live up to his expectations.

"How about some tube grubs?" Quark asked.

"I'll make them," Nog said. "I learned how."

Quark watched him head toward the kitchen, a bit too quickly, but that was youth. He remembered when everything had that sense of urgency about it.

The parts store that he used on Bajor told him they could deliver in two days, and he began to make plans on how to get more money out of the Vulcans. It wouldn't be easy, but he could do it, and he decided to hold onto the parts for a day or so to see what he could think of. He went to the docks after the bar closed that night, just to check the parts for quality before he took them out.

It was amazing how little most races heard. They were practically deaf by Feringhee standards, and unless a Feringhee was distracted, which was unfortunately to easy to do, not many people could sneak up on one of them.

He knew the docks should be empty, but he heard movements behind him. It was from a large creature or humanoid, and Quark heard the distinctive sound of garments rubbing against themselves.

He spun just in time to see "Rakak" coming at him with a large disruptor. The graceful Vulcan demeanor was gone, replaced by a face twisted with fury - a very Romulan face.

Quark didn't have enough time to react and grab his own weapon. He managed to grab the Romulan's arm and twist it around, but it was the Romulan's finger that pulled the trigger. The look of surprise on the Romulan's face just before he fell matched the one on Quark's.

Quark looked down at the smoldering remains of the Romulan. The good thing about his laser derringer was that it was silent and clean - a body with a single hole and burn mark was easy to clean, and he was a crack shot.

The bad thing about Romulan weapons was that they were loud and messy, and he hadn't been able to pull his derringer from under his vest, so he'd had to resort to grabbing the Romulan's weapon.

He had procured his new weapon after Odo had taken his last one. It was illegal as well as the Romulan's weapon. Quark had it modified at no small expense to avoid the Cardassian and the Bajoran detectors on the station.

"How interesting," he heard softly behind him, the soft voice dripping with polite menace. "I seem to have stumbled onto an unfortunate situation."

"Garak," Quark said, his voice breaking slightly even though he tried not to show emotion. It wasn't quite a worst case scenario, but it was close. _How did he sneak up on me?_ he wondered, but he had always suspected that Garak was more than a tailor, and now he had proof. No "tailor" could have done that.

"I came down here to check on a shipment," Garak said. "I do get so worried about my new fabrics, you know. They're so fragile, so easy to destroy." He looked down at the Romulan and prodded him with a foot, with a disgusted look on his face.

"This isn't what it looks like," Quark said. "It was self defense."

Garak put a hand on Quark's shoulder and squeezed gently, a horrible parody of compassion.

"Of course it was," Garak said. "A pillar of the community like yourself has no need to fear. We'll just call Odo down here, and he'll take care of all this. I'm sure an exemplary officer of the law like Odo will know exactly what to do in such a situation."

There had been a snake loose on the station once, a big thick monster someone had brought from Bajor. It had chosen to leave a vent in Quark's bedroom, and he had found it at night after closing the bar, coiled in a corner. It had pulled itself up as tall as Quark and stared at him as it swayed back and forth before sinking its fangs into his chest.

Its bite caused him a bad infection, but its venom was harmless against Feringhee.

As he looked up into Garak's face, he felt the same deep revulsion and fear as he had with the cobra, except Garak's type of poison was fatal to all races.

"I think we can leave Odo out of this," Quark said. "He's probably sloshing around his room right now, and I'd hate to bother him."

Garak prodded the Romulan's corpse again with his foot. "I don't know," he said. "Odo would want to help such law abiding citizens as ourselves."

Quark looked down at the disruptor in his hand. _My DNA has to be all over this thing_ , he thought.

"What do you want, Garak?" Quark asked. He could feel the man's grasp on his soul.

"Want?" Garak asked. "Not much. I just know that there's something you're good at, and it happens to be something I need." He smiled and tilted his head, and Quark shuddered.

"You're not my type," Quark said.

"No, my little friend, but you are exactly the person I need, and if you don't want Odo involved you'll do what I tell you to."

With the pretense of civility dropped, Garak's benign face slipped into a smug grin, and he tightened his grip on Quark's shoulder.

 _No, no, no_ , Quarks mind screamed. "I try to be obliging," he said, but the attempt to sound like he was in control was ruined when his voice slipped an octave higher on the last word. "I know a guy who would suit your needs better."

"Oh but Quark, I've heard from a certain person that you're good."

 _Who's telling stories about me_? Quark wondered.

"Whoever told you that was exaggerating."

"Don't be so modest," Garak said. "I know you can make holograms from medical data, and I need one - no questions asked.

"Oh, holograms," Quark said. "I can do that."

"What did you think I wanted?" Garak asked. His smile was even more predatory.

"Something more insidious," Quark said. "Hologram building is expensive."

"You'll be well compensated," Garak said.

Suddenly the night seemed much better.

"I'll get you the medical information," Garak said. "I'm not getting involved with this." He pointed toward the body. "Vulcans tend to take the murder of one of their own very seriously."

 _Garak doesn't know he's Romulan_ , Quark thought.

"I don't suppose you have anyone I could hire to help me hide the body," Quark said.

"Now, friend Quark, how would I know anything about that?" He smiled sweetly, looked toward the ceiling and sighed. "I'm just a simple tailor."

Quark watched as Garak walked away with an arrogant strut, so quiet that Quark only heard his footsteps because of his sensitive hearing, and then only just barely.

He turned back to look at the body, and he tucked the disruptor into his vest to dispose of later. It had been a long time since he'd needed to get rid of a body, and he'd lost those contacts when the Cardassians left. A few of them had been quite useful to him, in their own way.


	12. Chapter 12

Ch 12

He heard a familiar sloshing sound, and a storage crate nearby grew and morphed into his nemesis. Odo let out a loud laugh.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?' Odo asked.

"How long were you there?" Quark asked.

"Long enough," Odo said.

"You could have said something sooner,"

"I thought you were Dax," Odo said. "I know I heard her voice."

"Very funny," quark said. "You know it was in self defense."

"I do, but what I'd like to know is why it happened. It isn't like a Vulcan to draw a weapon and try to murder someone, especially without talking to them first. It seems very Romulan, don't you think?"

"It did surprise me for a Vulcan to do that," quark said.

"I don't think it did," Odo said. "Vulcan alerted us that there was a Romulan spy in that group, and I've been keeping tabs on the group since they got here. I know you talked with this one. Is it a coincidence that he turned out to be the spy?"

"He needed me to get him some supplies. Talking isn't illegal," quark said.

"No," Odo said, "but it's definitely suspicious. I want to know everything you know about this."

"Or what?" Quark asked. "You can't arrest me for killing him."

"No, but that disruptor you're carrying is prohibited."

Quark reached slowly into his vest and removed the disruptor, holding it by the barrel with two fingers so Odo wouldn't think he was going to use it. He dropped it on the ground.

"I'll have bail money in an hour, and I'll take the fine."

"Do you mean to tell me that you'll willingly shell out money rather than give me some information?" Odo asked. "Whatever you're hiding must be worth a lot of money."

"It's legal, so it isn't your business."

"Oh, but it is," Odo said. "Conducting espionage is illegal on this station."

"I thought he was Vulcan. You can't prove that I knew otherwise."

"No, but if you want to play games I saw a number of minor infractions, and if I charge you with all of them separately there will be a trial for all of them separately. How much time and money would that cost you?"

"I'll tell you as much as I can," quark said, changing strategies. "I thought I recognized him as one of the prisoners from that time the wormhole decided to spit us out near Faringar. I just wanted to check my own cargo, and he got the jump on me."

"You said you wanted to sell supplies to him, but you wanted to exploit him," Odo said.

"Talk, exploit - same difference."

"That's probably the most honest thing you've ever said," Odo said.

"There's a Rule of Acquisition that applies here," quark said.

"Spare me your Rules," Odo said, "and don't try to change the subject when the body isn't even cold yet."

"I was just going to see what kind of profit I could make off the situation. It turns out to have been a mistake."

"Not really," Odo said. "I was following him, and your mistake is my profit. This takes care of one problem. With him dead I can look inside his cargo hold on reasonable suspicion".

"How is that reasonable suspicion?"

"I'll think of a reason later. I have work to do here, so you should go now. And I want to know why Garak wants that hologram."

"It's probably the same reason anyone would come to me for a hologram." Quark said. "I am in the entertainment business. It isn't like women on the station are lining up to date a Cardassian tailor. He's probably just lonely."

"You sicken me," Odo said.

"I sicken you? You were going to let Garak kill me, or worse."

"I would have stopped a murder," Odo said. "As for the "or worse" I think Garak has better taste in romantic partners than you."

"I'm leaving," quark said. "I've had enough of all of this."

"You'd better be careful with Garak," Odo said. "If you try to toy with him he'll crush you."

"You injure my pride," quark said. "I'll have you know my people were trading with his people for hundreds of years, and I dealt with plenty of Cardassians on terok-nor. Got the best of most of them too."

"Garak is out of your league Quark."

"If I didn't know better I'd think you cared."

"But you do know better," Odo said. "I just don't want to clean up the mess. I'm going to report this to Sisko now, and he'll probably have questions for you."

"You could save yourself a lot of paperwork and leave Sisko out of this."

"Goodbye, quark."

Quark put his hands in his pockets and strolled out of the hanger, making sure Odo saw him being nonchalant. As soon as the door closed he began to run.

He had only one thought, and as he raced through dark passages and forgotten tubes and alleys he only hoped to get to Sarafina before Odo did.

 _He'll drop what passes for subtlety with him and question her_ , he thought. He could just picture it, and even though Sarafina liked to think of herself as a worldly woman Odo was a type of sneaky she'd probably never dealt with. _If she tells him everything he'll find a way to charge me with something,_ he thought.

 _She is going to be so mad at me_ , quark thought, and he began to fashion excuses for the inevitable questions.

He didn't even stop to catch his breath outside her door, but after he hit the buzzer and she answered he had to take a few quick gulps of air.

"Sarafina, we have to talk," he said.

She was wearing an evening robe when she opened the door. Odo stood in her quarters with his hands clasped behind his back and standing with his back straight and his eyes challenging.

"How interesting that you came straight here," Odo said.

"How did you get here so fast?" Quark asked.

"It's useful to be able to fit into small vents and tubes," Odo said, "but that doesn't matter. What matters is that Commander Sisko told me about what Sarafina said to him about her planet and the Romulans. Suddenly, a Romulan - at least one - is on the ship and trying to kill you. I want to know why."

"So would I," Quark said.

"Oh, just tell him already," Sarafina said. "There's no reason to keep it a secret anymore. I'm going to accept help anywhere I can find it, and after I talk to Commander Sisko again, which I'm sure Odo will insist on after a killing like this, he'll listen. He'll have to."

"I suppose it's time," Quark said reluctantly. "I'll leave you to it then. This really has nothing to do with me anymore, does it?" He didn't even try to hide the anger in his voice.

"It was never about you," Sarafina said. "It was about helping my people."

Quark left, but before he got far Odo was behind him. "I'm not done with you yet," he said.

"Yes you are," Quark said. "She can tell you anything you want to know. She seems to think the _Federation_ can help her more than I can, even though... never mind. Just leave me out of this."

"How were you expecting to profit off of the deaths of her people?" Odo asked.

Quark looked at that smug face, and he wanted to push it in. "I was going to make a deal that would have helped us both, but she blew it now."

"How?"

"You know what? I'm tired, I'm angry, and I'm sick of this mess. I'm out. Contact me if you need an official statement, but I really didn't know that Romulan was going to attack me, and there was nothing more to that than self defense."

He stomped off, expecting Odo to follow him, or to arrest him if he was really unlucky. When Odo didn't stop him he turned to see him back at Sarafina's doorstep.

 _After all that I did for her. That ungrateful little..._

He couldn't find a curse bad enough for what she had done. He could accept that she was going to take her business elsewhere. It happened, and if he was honest with himself he had to admit that with the problems from his injuries he'd moved too slowly.

It burned that she'd turned to the Federation, of all people, but that didn't really hurt. What hurt was that she was doing it wrong. A son was supposed to take over the business and run it themselves, not burn it to the ground, and that was what she was about to do. She didn't think she was doing anything illegal, but Quark thought that Odo would find a way to make it look like that. No. That suggested dishonesty. Quark thought Odo would find a way to actually _believe_ she was guilty of something.

He took two shots of the cheap vodka he kept under the counter, and he went to bed angry. The next morning he decided that waking up angry was as bad as having a hangover. Dax came in for breakfast, which was usual, but he couldn't even enjoy his time with her. As she chatted with him he found himself becoming more and more irritated with her.

She finally realized he wasn't listening. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You seem distracted today."

"Sarafina dumped me," Quark said.

"I thought you two weren't dating," Dax said.

"No. I mean she ended our business relationship. I wish she had just dumped me romantically. It would hurt less."

"I'm sure you can win her back," Dax said.

Quark waved a hand dismissively. "Don't try to cheer me up today. I just want to stew for awhile."

Dax shrugged. "Suit yourself, but the Quark I know doesn't take losses without a fight."

"I can't fight the Federation, and that's who she chose to do business with. The Federation!"

"I'm sure it isn't personal," Dax said.

A Klingon walked in in a Starfleet uniform.

"Am I seeing things?" Quark asked. "Is he in Starfleet?"

"Oh yes," Dax said. "I was surprised myself."

The Klingon sat by Dax at the bar and ordered a Raktajino.

"You look familiar," Quark said, "and I know I've never seen one of you in that uniform before.

"We have met before," Worf said. "You were too inebriated to remember."

"Ferengi remember what happens when they drink," Quark said.

"This is Worf," Dax said.

"Son of Morg," Worf said.

Klingons were interesting. No matter how he felt about them individually, Quark thought of their race as... well...spicy.

This one seemed off somehow, needlessly formal, and worse of all, too close to Dax for his comfort.

He stayed near enough to listen to their conversation, and he learned the basic reason Worf was on DS9. Dax was entirely too interested in his story for Quark to be comfortable with it.

They left together, and Quark felt fury rising.

 _I will not lose her to some puffed up Klingon in THAT uniform. I waited too long with Sarafina. I need to close the deal with Dax soon._

He had to put up with Sisko summoning him to the bridge, as if he was some common Star Fleet ensign trash. He purposely waited until Odo came and told him he'd arrest him if he didn't come. "We are investigating a spy on the ship," Odo said, "and I suspect that you helped him and were double-crossed."

"Oh, come off it," Quark said. "You talked to Sarafina. She told you enough to know my relationship to the Romulans. I was on her planet legally, and nothing I did there broke any Federation laws. In fact, according to their sensibilities I deserve a medal."

"She did have a lot of good things to say about you," Odo said. "I can't say I think much of her ability to judge people."

"No, we all leave that to you," Odo said.

Odo harrumphed. "Let's go," he said. "Commander Sisko is in a bad mood, and you shouldn't keep him waiting."

"What happened?" Sisko asked. "I already know from Sarafina and Odo. I just want to hear what you have to say."

"Sarafina and I had a perfectly legal business arrangement, which she broke. Until he attacked me, I thought that man was Vulcan. He asked for me to help his group buy some supplies - mundane food and parts. That's all there is. I have invoices to prove the transaction."

"It matches what Sarafina told me," Sisko said. "I can't have Odo charge you with espionage, this time, but you are on my list, Quark."

 _I always am,_ Quark thought.

"If you're finished I do have work to do," Quark said.

He loved the look he could bring to Sisko's face. He'd heard that Sisko had said that no one annoyed him more than Quark. Quark thought that there was no one he loved annoying more than Sisko except for Odo.

"Just go!" Sisko said. "I'm tired of having to deal with problems you cause."

"How did I cause this?" Quark asked. "I had no idea anyone knew about Sarafina. I still don't know how it happened."

"If you _ever_ have dealings with an enemy of the Federation, even indirectly, I want to know. You have a habit of attracting trouble that could endanger this station."

Quark left, having to work to hide the smirk that probably would have sent Sisko over the edge.

As soon as Rom came to take his shift Quark went to his private computer station to do some research.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As Bashir and Sarafina looked through the numerous documents involved in contacting the proper people who could help her, she began to understand what Quark had meant about dealing with the Federation.

"This will take forever," Sarafina said. "I don't have time for all this."

"It just seems overwhelming because you're looking at it from outside the system," Bashir said. "I have some contacts, and I'll call some people."

"Thank you Julian. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bashir was standing behind her, reading the view screen over her shoulder. "I'd do that and so much more for you if you asked."

Sarafina expected him to touch her face, or play with her hair. It was what men usually did at this point, or far before this point. He never touched her in any way that suggested that he was more interested in her than in anyone else he might help.

 _He's such a good man,_ Sarafina thought. If he didn't make the occasional, obviously sensual statement she wouldn't have even known he was interested in her. Even then he wasn't lecherous, just obvious.

"I never met anyone like you, Julian," she said.

"And I can say that I've never met anyone like you," he said. His voice was soft and pleasing.

 _Don't do it girl,_ Sarafina thought. _He isn't a suitable choice for a mate._

"Wait!" Bashir said, distracted by a document. "Scroll back two documents. There it is!"

She tried to tell herself that she wasn't disappointed that he'd turned back to his work. "Those are the people in the Department of Security that would deal with this - I hope. I'll contact them."

Sarafina reached back and took his hand in her own, feeling the soft skin of someone who'd never done any physical labor in his life, and she felt a great loss. "Thank you, Julian."

It hurt. It hurt to find someone that cared so much about other people that he would give that much of himself. It hurt that she'd never connected with any man like this, and why did he have to be so damn handsome?

 _I have to put an end to this,_ she thought, _and I know how._

"I'm worn out mentally," she said. "Before you start calling people I'd really like to do something to relax."

"What were you thinking?" Bashir asked.

"That holo-deck you showed me made me think of something. I know you can make another person in there."

"Yes. What were you thinking?"

She looked up at him. "I would love to see you fight."

"Um, ok. That's unexpected, but if it will help we can go there now. At this time of day we might be able to get in. Most people don't go there during the day unless it's a weekend."

She didn't want to deal with Quark yet, but he owned the holo-deck. It wasn't that she was angry, but she knew that he felt betrayed. How could she explain to him how much he meant to her, that if it hadn't been about the good of her people she would never have hurt him? He wouldn't believe her.

"What do you want?" Quark asked Sarafina when she came in with Bashir.

"We need to rent the holo-deck for an hour," Bashir said.

"So you closed the deal, huh?" Quark asked Sarafina. "I hope he's more loyal than you are."

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" Bashir said. "Don't insult the lady."

Quark shook his head. "You just don't get it do you, you poor, manipulatable sucker."

"Quark!" Sarafina said. "Stop it!"

Quark pulled up a program on the register. "When do you want it?" he asked.

"Is anyone in there now?" Sarafina asked.

"No," Quark said. He rang up their purchase and handed them an entrance card. "You know how it works. After an hour the program ends, you put your clothes back on and go your way."

"I'm warning you!" Bashir said.

"Come on Julian," Sarafina said. "And you called me childish!" she said to Quark.

Quark mumbled something angrily and went to serve another customer.

"Don't let him get to you," Sarafina said.

"He gets to everyone eventually," Bashir said.

He created a simple dojo, complete with a sparring partner -a nondescript human male, average height and build, blonde hair.

"Could you make him Romulan?" Sarafina asked.

Bashir told the computer the new specifications, and Sarafina looked at the hologram. It was in a ready stance.

"Begin," Bashir said.

The Romulan attacked, and Bashir evaded him easily. As it was passing Bashir swept its legs out from under it. The Romulan managed to pull him down, but he spun quickly to jump to his feet before he could be entangled. The two fighters circled each other, and the Romulan charged. Bashir simply allowed the holo-gram to reach him, and he fell backwards, throwing the Romulan back over him. There was a distinct "crack" as the Romulan's neck broke.

Bashir stood. "Was that what you wanted?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Sarafina said. She stepped close to him, savoring the slight smell of sweat and the flush on his face. "It was exactly what I wanted." She kissed him, and for the first time she did it without thinking of the future, or what she could get from a man.

Meanwhile Quark was trying to calm himself with his own plans. _I should focus on what's important to me,_ he thought.

He contacted a Bajoran artist, one that he'd dealt with before. "I need to go planeside," he told Rom.

"Why? I don't want to watch the bar."

"It's important," Quark said. "It's very important."

He retrieved the article from the artist with no problems, and when he came back he pulled out the black box.

"Is that what was so important?" Rom asked.

Quark opened it reverently, and he showed Rom the bracelet on the satin lining.

"You went to Bajor for this?" Rom asked. He picked up the bracelet. It was silver, and delicately worked as if chains of flowers intersected.

"I'm going to give it to Dax," he said. "I did some research, and this is a traditional gift a trill man gives to a woman. It's supposed to show the eternity of life and love."

"Love?" Rom said.

Quark put the bracelet back in its box and closed it. He passed his hand over the box. "I need her. Life just wouldn't be the same without her."

"I hope it works," Rom said.

"How could it not?" Quark asked smugly. "She gets this _and_ me."

He waited expectantly for her to come to the bar, but it was three days before he saw her again. Every day he became more anxious.

"Go to her," Rom said.

"I can't do that," Quark said. "If I let her be dominant in the relationship we'll end up like Mother and Father."

So he waited, and when she finally came in he immediately forgot any irritation he had with her. She was radiantly happy.

"Oh Quark, I have the best news," she said.

 _Good. This will be the perfect time to give her the bracelet,_ Quark thought. _I'll have to teach her how to be a wife, but this will be wonderful._

"So do I," he said. "You first."

"Do you remember Worf, the Klingon I introduced you to?"

"Yes," Quark said. He had a bad feeling suddenly.

Dax took a deep breath. "We're engaged."

Quark was speechless.

"Quark? I know you two didn't get along well when you met, but I really want you two to be friends."

"Engaged?" Quark asked.

Dax nodded. Her happy expression had changed to a look of worry. "I want you to be at my wedding. You're very important to me."

"I...of course, Dax. This is just unexpected."

To his relief a customer across the bar raised a hand for service. "I have to go," Quark said.

When he looked back toward the bar Dax was gone.

After the bar closed Rom and Nog were cleaning, while Quark wiped the bar down. He hadn't realized that he had stopped cleaning and was just wiping his rag in the same circle over and over again.

"We'll never get out of here if you go that slowly," Rom said.

"Dax is engaged," Quark said. "Can you believe it?"

"Congratulations!" Rom said. "That was fast!"

"She's engaged to a Klingon," Quark said. "I waited too long again."

"Nog, go back to our quarters," Rom said.

Nog didn't wait for any chance his father might change his mind. "Now what?" Rom asked. "That bracelet looked expensive."

"Not as much as it looks," Quark said. "I'll give it to her as a wedding present."

"And you're ok with this?" Rom asked.

"Of course I'm not ok with it!" Quark said, "but what can you expect from a woman anyway? I was a fool to think she was different."

"Brother, you don't really think that."

Quark counted down the till and when he took it to the safe he stopped and looked at its contents. He liked to keep hard currency on hand. He picked up a latinum strip and he held it up to the light, looking at its gleam.

"I'll be ok," he told Rom. "This is the only lady I need."

It was only days later that Sarafina's deal with the Federation came to a close - or at least that part of it. As she stood outside the shuttle that was to take her away to a new place - never a new home, just a new place to exist, she found it much harder to leave Bashir than she had thought it would be.

"I wish I could stay with you," she said, "but I have to leave."

"I know," Bashir said. "I've always known. No one stays here for long that doesn't have to. I wanted to experience frontier medicine, and I got it. The thing about frontiers is that people are always passing through."

"Julian, I need to tell you something," Sarafina said. "I can't leave like this. I care for you more than any man. When we met I was only planning to use you."

"I knew," Bashir said softly.

"You knew?" she asked. "Then why did you help me?"

"Because what was happening on your planet was wrong, and because I knew Quark probably couldn't help you. He doesn't have the connections I do."

"It isn't like that anymore," Sarafina said. "I want you to know that."

Bashir kissed her. "I know that too," he said.

The pilot announced that they were boarding.

"Go do what you have to do," Bashir said, "and if you come this way again I'll probably be here."

He went to Quark's bar. "I'll have a whiskey. Make it a double."

"Problems in paradise?" Quark asked.

"Sarafina just left for Earth," Bashir said.

"I hope it works out for her," Quark said.

"I thought you were angry at her."

"She came by last night, and we talked. I guess it's just a loss, and there's nothing I can do to turn it into profit at this point. We both want to remember each other the way we were, not how we ended up."

"She gave me something for you," Bashir said. He handed Quark a note and a box. The note was actually on paper.

"I wonder where she found paper," he said. "She must have purposely replicated this. How quaint."

He opened the note. _Dearest Quark. I can't ever truly repay you for what you've done for me, but you gave me an idea on how to begin. Sarafina._

Quark opened the case and saw four bars of latinum. He blinked his eyes. They were still there.

"I thought she'd do something along those lines," Bashir said.

He picked up the other note on top of the bars. _My arrangement with the Federation has been lucrative. They are paying me well to be their test subject. I would have done it for free, but if I had I couldn't have done this for you, and after everything we've been through you've earned it. I owe my financial education to you. Consider this to be the beginning of your allowance, as I would have been very proud to have been able to take your business over so you could retire. I would have been proud for you to have been my father._

Quark laughed loudly, and then he found that he couldn't stop. "She's better than a son," he said.

"I don't understand," Bashir said. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," Quark said. "I really don't know anymore." He poured Bashir a drink. "I wouldn't worry too much about her. I think she'll be just fine."

He poured himself a whiskey and tapped Bashir's glass with his. "Cheers," he said. "I have no idea what that means, but you hew-mons say it."

"To latinum," Bashir said.

"A proper Feringhee toast," Quark said. He took a sip of whiskey, but Bashir threw his back in one swallow.

"I've never seen you do that," Quark said.

"Pour me another one," Bashir said. "A double."

Quark poured him a double.

"It doesn't matter if it's logical or not," Bashir said. "It still hurts."

"Women do that," Quark said.

When he asked for another drink, Quark pretended to drop something, and he bent to appear to retrieve it. He quickly grabbed the cheap alcohol and added it to the whiskey bottle.

He poured another drink for Bashir. "Is O'Brian coming by later?" he asked. _Someone's going to have to get him home later, and I am not babysitting a drunk._

"In an hour," Bashir said. His speech slurred.

Quark tallied Bashir's tab, and he thought that by the time the night was done he could slip a couple of extra drinks on the tab without Bashir remembering how many he had.

When he opened the drawer to make change for another customer there was a latinum strip inside it, and after the customer had left Quark picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Bashir asked.

"I never should have left my first love." He held the strip up, kissed it, and put it back in the register. "She's never let me down yet, and I'll never cheat on her again."

The station moved slowly in its orbit above Bajor, quiet and dark after the bar shut down and the inhabitants settled in for the night - mostly. It was broken in some places, and it creaked in too many others, but it held together - for the most part. Like the people inside it, it held together - for the most part.


End file.
